Secrets
by Loca Bambina
Summary: In South Park, keeping up with the who-likes-who can be confusing... especially for Kenny, who happens to be in the middle of it all for some reason.
1. Prologue

A/N: Oh man, I just realized what a little review-beggar I was when I first wrote this (not so long ago, sadly… DX). Going back and fixing up the author's notes now. I think I'll redo the beginning of the story at some point, too, just because the first couple of chapters are absolutely horrendous - I had no clue what I was doing. XD

disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own South Park - Trey Parker and Matt Stone do. I do, however, own all the seasons on DVD, so that's good enough for me.

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Prologue

Kyle, Wendy, Cartman, Butters, Bebe, and Stan. They each have a secret that no one knows – no one except me. They're not _big_ secrets, not like… matters of life and death or anything like that. But still… they're important to them, I guess. All it would take is for me to tell just one of their secrets, and all six of their worlds would come crashing down. But I'm not that kinda person. That's why they all trust me, I guess, even though I can barely handle my own secret...

But they all trust me anyway because I'm Kenny. Kenny, the quiet kid, Kenny, the poor kid with no best friend, Kenny, the kid who's dead half the time so he barely has a chance to tell a secret anyway.


	2. Kyle

A/N: Terrifyingly short chapter. Eep.

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Ch 1 - Kyle

Kyle was the first one to tell his secret. It was one of the least surprising of all Kenny would hear. They were in History, watching Bebe Stevens give – or try to give - a presentation on the Civil War. Or at least whatever she was giving the report on was _called_ the Civil War, but it sure wasn't the battle between the North and the South that took place in the 1860s...

"And the reason the South won the War was 'cause they had, like, cuter shoes and stuff, so more people liked them, so they had more soldiers. And that's my report on the Civil War."

"Um… right," said Ms. Robinson, who was almost as sarcastic as Mrs. Garrison. She made a few marks on Bebe's paper. "Congratulations, Bebe, you just set a record for the lowest grade ever in the fifteen years I've been giving this assignment." Bebe rolled her eyes and sauntered back to her seat, her blond curls bouncing with every step.

"Class, that enlightening report concludes today's Civil War presentations. Tomorrow we will be hearing from Jimmy on the fascinating subject of Civil War medicines…"

"Kenny," hissed Kyle, who sat on Kenny's right. The orange-clad boy, who'd been in somewhat of a trance due to lack of sleep and Ms. Robinson's dreary sarcastic monotone, started.

"What?" he whispered back.

"Do you – dyouthinkshegooutwime?"

"Huh?"

"Do you think, um, you know, if I asked her out, she'd say yes?"

"Ms. _Robinson?!_"

"No, you idiot! Bebe!" Kyle glanced around the room to make sure no one had heard, then lowered his voice. "Bebe. I like her. A lot."

"Oh," said Kenny, confused. _Kyle? And Bebe? But Kyle's so smart, and Bebe's…_ He looked over to where the blonde sat. Not surprisingly, she was filing her long, pink nails under the desk.

"Yeah, so… please don't tell anyone, Kenny. Not even Stan knows I like her. He can't know, 'cause she's Wendy's best friend and all."

"Why does that matter? Anyway, I don't think Stan likes her anymore. He didn't even look nauseous that other night when we all went to the movies."

"Okay, but still… Kenny, please don't tell!" Kenny nodded to let Kyle know his secret was safe, and the two of them went back to work, Kenny still perplexed over how in the world a guy like Kyle could ever like a girl like Bebe. But then again, this was South Park, the tiny white-bread mountain town where anything could happen.


	3. Bebe

A/N: Thanks to **Emerald's Shine** for reviewing!

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Ch 2 – Bebe

_So Kyle likes Bebe… but does Bebe like him back?_ Kenny wondered. He didn't really care, but hey, it would be hilarious to see the two of them on a date… Kyle trying to hold an intelligent conversation, Bebe totally spacing out, Kyle getting frustrated… Kenny chuckled to himself.

It didn't take him long to find out if Bebe returned Kyle's feelings. That day after school, Kenny was sitting under a tree reading a magazine (not _Playboy-_ he'd learned long ago that reading porn at school didn't work out too well) and listening to music on the iPod the boys had gotten him for his 13th birthday when who should appear but Bebe Stevens herself.

"Hey, Kenny," she smiled, taking a seat next to him in the shade.

"Hey, babe," he murmured back, idly flipping a page in the magazine. He wondered why she was talking to him. Sure, they were something of friends, but they only talked when they were hanging out in a group. So what was she doing here alone with him?

"Kenny, um, can I tell you something?" He shut the magazine and set it down.

"'Sup?"

"Okay, well, I'm only telling you this 'cause I'm not sure who else to tell, and I know that you're really good at keeping secrets, well, 'cause you, like, you're so quiet and all, and I wasn't sure if I could trust anyone else, and I really need to tell someone or I'm gonna explode, so – "

"Bebe, you can trust me. What's going on?" Seriously, if she liked Kyle… Kenny could swear he wouldn't tell anyone, but he couldn't promise that he wouldn't burst into laughter right in front of her.

"Okay, um, it's not anything big, but… I like Butters. There. I said it. Bebe likes Butters!" She blushed. "But, see, I don't know what to do, 'cause people will think I'm weird, right? I don't want people to think I'm weird! Since they all think Butters is weird, you know, but he's _not_, Kenny, he's really cute and nice and he's smart, too." _Butters… smart?_ thought Kenny, but all he said was:

"It's okay that you like Butters, Bebe. He's not one of my good friends, but, um, he's a really nice guy…" She grinned.

"You won't tell anyone, then?"

"Um. No. No, I won't tell."

"Oh, thank you, Kenny! I was so afraid to tell anyone, not even Wendy knows, 'cause I know she'd think I was weird, but you're so nice, Kenny, and I knew you wouldn't judge me or anything!" _Right... _thought Kenny, but he kept his mouth shut. "You don't know how good it feels to have someone else know my secret. Thanks so much!" She flashed another grin and bounced away, leaving Kenny alone again to wonder. What was the big deal about liking someone? He'd never really had a crush himself, not since that girl Kelly he'd met in… what, 3rd grade? 4th? Ah, well, it didn't really matter. She was cute, he remembered, but it wouldn't have worked out. Still, that one crush wasn't enough for him to understand why it was so important that he keep quiet about Bebe and Kyle's "secrets"… Confused, he picked up the magazine, shrugged, and began to read again.


	4. Butters

A/N: Everyone knows it's Butters! Yep, it's time for the little blond cutie to spill... In this chapter I tried to bring out a little more of Kenny's background and personality. He's actually a really interesting character... he's just so quiet (and dead) most of the time so I often overlook him in the show.

Big thanks to **Luna C. Starque, nina-neko, Emerald's Shine, **and **running in circles **for reviewing!

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Ch 3 – Butters

_  
_Later that day, Kenny was in his near-empty bedroom doing math homework with a stub of a pencil he'd found on the ground. In the background he could hear his dad screaming at his mom and the sound of glass breaking. But this didn't faze him – it was just another chaotic day at the McCormick house. If you could call it a house.

Kenny hated being poor. He hated everything about it. He hated his stupid father, hated the fact that, if it wasn't for that lazy alcoholic asshole, Kenny and threst of the family wouldn't have to suffer like this.

His hatred towards his father went way beyond the poverty issue, however. No, there was much more…

Kenny's cell phone (another gift from the boys, this one from last Christmas) began to ring, interrupting his trail of thoughts, and he picked it up quickly so his dad wouldn't know he had the phone. The screen read "Unidentified Caller", but he answered it anyway.

"Hello?"

"He- hey there, Kenny. It's Butters."

"Butters? How'd you get my number?"

"Oh, uh, Stan gave it to me." Kenny made a mental note to ignore Stan the next day at school.

"Well, d'you need the homework or something?" Why else would Butters be calling him...?

"N- no, Kenny, I just wanted to ask you something."

"Uh, sure, Butters." _This better not take too long_, Kenny thought. He still hadn't started that science homework.

"Okay, well, I was wondering, um, do you know who- who Wendy likes?"

"No… why?"

"Oh, um… nothing. N- nothing."

"Okay then. Bye, Butters."

"Well, see, see here! Don't – don't go yet, Kenny. I- I- I know it sounds weird, Kenny, but – but I – aw, fiddlesticks, I'll just tell you. I like Wendy." _Another one?!_ "I really like her, Kenny. She's so pretty… But I think she likes someone, see, so I don't know what to do. Please don't tell anyone, Kenny." Kenny sighed. What was with all this stupid I-like-this-person-please-don't-tell-thanks-so-much crap he was getting today? Oh well, might as well play along. It wasn't like he had anything better to do…

"Yeah, sure, Butters. Sure thing." And he wouldn't tell anyone, but not because he respected Butters's secret or anything. He just didn't want people to think he was such good friends with Butters that they told each other who they liked… And besides, who _cared_ who Butters liked anyway? Except maybe Cartman, who would incorporate the fact into some devious scheme to humiliate Butters.

"Ah, th- thanks, Kenny. You're a real good friend. I knew I could- could count on you. See ya tomorrow." Butters hung up. Kenny shook his head slowly and turned back to his geometry homework, which was only half done. _Oh, screw it_, he thought, shoving the unfinished paper into his binder. He couldn't concentrate on it anyway – his parents were still screaming at each other, his little sister was crying, and he was so tired he thought he might faint. Besides, he realized, he hadn't died for a couple of days. Could he be overdue? Maybe he was. Maybe he'd get lucky and get run over by a car on the way to the bus stop the next morning, so he wouldn't have to deal with getting in trouble for the incomplete homework. Then again, maybe he'd wake up tomorrow richer than Token. Maybe Cartman would lose a hundred pounds. Maybe South Park would become the world's most famous vacation spot.

When it came to luck, Kenny McCormick was dirt poor. But is that really so surprising?


	5. Wendy

A/N: -facepalm-

-

Incredibly awesome reviewers: **Helsinki Demon, Emerald's Shine, **and **Otempora42**. Otempora42 pointed out something I forgot to mention: the main plot of this story (so far) is NOT to be taken seriously! I know it's completely unrealistic for all these people to like someone who has no feelings for them whatsoever... but that's the point of the story, in a way. After all, this is South Park, where nothing ever goes as planned.

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Ch 5 – Wendy 

Bored, Kenny leaned back against the pillow on his cot-like bed. He didn't feel like doing homework, and there wasn't really anything else to do.

He began to think about the "secrets" he'd learned that day. _Kyle likes Bebe, Bebe likes Butters, Butters likes Wendy…_ He laughed at the absurdity of the whole thing. Only in South Park could so many people like someone whose heart belonged to another…

Kenny wondered who Wendy liked. _Not Butters_, he thought, chuckling a little. He wouldn't admit it, but he almost felt a little sorry for the blond outcast. The kid had no friends, but he was kind to everyone. It occurred to Kenny that maybe he should do something nice for the boy, if only because he was bored. After all, Butters did consider him a friend… Suddenly, Kenny had an idea.

He reached for his black cell phone again, ignoring the chips and scratches, and selected _New Text_.

**KENNY: hey wendy i have a ?**

She wrote back almost immediately.

**WENDY: yeah?**

**KENNY: i know someone who likes u and i wanted to c if u liked him back**

**WENDY: who is it??**

Kenny hesitated. Should he tell her? Would Kenny be mad if he knew she'd found out?

_Oh, whatever,_ he thought. Even if he was doing something nice for Butters here, it didn't mean he had to take the other boy's feelings into consideration all the time.

**KENNY: butters**

It was several minutes before Wendy responded.

**WENDY: oh um… tell him no thx but i like someone else.**

_How did I know? _Kenny smirked. Would this chain of unrequited love ever end?

**KENNY: oh ok.**

**WENDY: um… kenny, do u think u could find out if this guy likes me?**

Should he get involved? He pondered for a while, then decided to take the chance. It would be amusing, anyway.

**KENNY: sure. who is it?**

Again, the answer didn't come for several minutes. Finally Kenny's phone buzzed.

**WENDY: stan**

Of course. It had been… what, five years since they'd broken up? Kenny knew Stan had kept his crush on Wendy until at least 6th grade, but… strangely, he hadn't heard Stan so much as mention her name in the last year or so unless he was talking directly to her. _Weird,_ he thought. The phone buzzed again.

**WENDY: kenny u there? ur not gonna tell stan… r u?!**

**KENNY: no of course not. ill try to find out who he likes.**

**WENDY: thx kenny! ur a good friend.**

He flipped his phone shut, all thoughts of Butters completely erased from his mind. Why did he get himself roped into this stuff again? Now he had to find out who Stan liked or he'd face the wrath of Wendy Testaburger… He shuddered, remembering the time a substitute teacher had had the misfortune to come between Wendy and her then-boyfriend Stan. Even though Wendy had just called him her "good friend" (like everyone else he'd talked to today), he knew he had to be careful. He most definitely did _not_ want to share that teacher's fate…

Kenny shoved the phone back in his pocket, suddenly incredibly tired. His eyelids began to droop and he did nothing to fight the feeling of drowsiness that was overtaking his entire body. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.


	6. Kenny

A/N: Begin wangst sequence in 3…2…1…

* * *

Ch 6 – Kenny 

Kenny woke up two hours later to the sound of his dad's angry voice. "Kenny! Getcher ass out here!" He sighed and pushed his hood back up – it had slipped off in his sleep - then shoved the cell phone deep into his backpack for safekeeping.

"Kenny! Damn it, your dinner's getting cold!" So today was a dinner day? Oh yeah, it was Tuesday. Recently the McCormicks had had to cut down to meager meals three times a week – Tuesdays, Thursdays, and of course Sundays. Luckily for Kenny, his friends (well, Stan and Kyle, anyway) were kind enough to bring extra food for him at lunch, so he didn't starve to death. It was ironic, really, he thought as he he hopped off the bed and made his way to the dining room, that with all the deaths he'd suffered throughout his lifetime, starvation had never been the cause of any of them.

By the time he sat down at the table, his father had already begun to say grace. Kenny listened to his dad's sarcastic, ungrateful voice with hatred. _How can he say those things? How can he act as if none of our misfortune is his fault? It's all his fault!_ He clenched his fists under the table, failing to say "Amen" along with the rest of the family. _There's no way I'm agreeing to the words that just came out of that bastard's mouth_.

Luckily his parents didn't notice the omission. "Time to eat!" his mother said, passing out paper plates. Kenny studied her face, as he often did at dinner. It was an easy way to see what kind of evening was ahead – if she was tired and weary-looking, it meant his father had already done his worst and would probably fall asleep just after dinner. But today she was cheerful and energetic, a fake smile plastered on her face that completely contrasted the worry lines and grey hairs that had popped up in abundance over the last few years. Kenny knew what this meant. His dad must have just come home. The alcohol hadn't completely worn off yet. Kenny estimated another hour and a half before the torture would kick in… but it could be less.

He looked down at the dirty paper plate that he'd eaten various meals off of for the last several months. In the middle was a gross slop that in no way resembled potatoes and gravy – but Kenny had learned not to judge food by appearance. Cautiously, he dipped a finger in (they had no forks, of course) and popped it in his mouth. Yup, potatoes and gravy.

Kenny pushed back his chair. "Thanks for dinner, Mom and Dad, but I'm not hungry." He prayed his stomach wouldn't growl and betray his actual intentions – to get away from that table (and his father) at any cost. He'd be okay food-wise; he had a banana in his backpack that he'd wisely saved at lunch.

But as Kenny walked towards the trash can, ready to dump the goop that was supposed to be his dinner, a voice stopped him dead in his tracks. "You're not hungry?"

He gulped but refused to turn around. "No, I'm not. I- I must be sick, or something…"

"You expect me to believe that?" his dad growled, his raspy voice sending shivers up Kenny's spine. "Get back here with that meal, boy. Your mother worked hard to make sure you got dinner tonight, and you will eat it if I have to _force _itdown your ungrateful little throat!"

"Stuart-" began Kenny's mother, but he silenced her with his eyes, which seemed to Kenny powerful enough to kill with just one glance.

"I ain't done with you yet, boy. If that plate ain't clean in five minutes, you will _get_ it tonight. And I mean it – that plate better look as if nothing was ever on it." That would be impossible, Kenny realized, seeing as the plate was stained with at least two month's worth of dinner.

He began to eat the potatoes, scooping them up with his fingers and struggling to swallow the gross mess. He was painfully aware of the eight eyes burning through his skin, and he felt his own begin to water. _Damn it_, he thought. _I won't cry. I can't. I can't! _But, as you surely know, trying to stop tears at a time like this is as easy as telling yourself you "won't think" about a problem that's been weighing on your mind. Just as the problem almost always comes creeping into your thoughts no matter how hard you try to shut it out, Kenny's tears began to creep out of the corners of his eyes. They ran down his cheeks and into his mouth, swirling with the potatoes, adding a salty tinge to the bland potato taste that made him want to puke. He choked on his next bite, trying to stop crying. He was no longer concerned with the disgusting meal, with the math homework, with the stupid "secrets" of his friends. The only thing Kenny knew was that he had to stop crying, he couldn't let his dad see him –

"You crying, boy?" _Damn._

"I- "

"Little sissy! You were crying, weren't you? Lemme let you in on a little secret, kid." Somehow Kenny got the feeling his dad wasn't about to spill his childhood crush. "Men don't cry. You hear me? Real men are tough. Real men don't cry. Are you a real man?" Kenny was close to sobbing now.

"N- no, Dad! I'm not a real man! I'm only thir- " He gasped as his father knocked his chair over, sending Kenny crashing to the floor. "Dad!" Kenny struggled to get up, but Stuart pushed him back down again before the boy could stand. "Mom! Kev-" They just sat there, staring in silence, as Kenny received punch after punch, his tears mixing with his snot, his face a wet, bruised, dirty mess.

"Why didn't you eat that dinner, huh?" Kenny realized that through the stream of swear words escaping his father's lips was a question.

"I told you, I wasn't – "

"DON'T LIE TO ME! You want out of this family, huh, is that it? We not good enough for you, are we? ARE WE?" Kenny knew that no matter how he responded, he'd get beaten anyway, so he kept his mouth shut and his eyes clenched closed as his dad's fist connected with his cheek over and over.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably closer to ten torturous minutes, Stuart released his grip on Kenny. The boy fell to the floor, then scrambled up and dashed out of the house. He could barely see where he was going through all the tears and blood, but he knew he needed to escape. He needed to get somewhere safe…

Where, though? A friend's house? But who did he trust enough to protect him in case- in case his dad came for him? He doubted he would, of course – he'd probably be fast asleep in fifteen minutes anyway, but just in case, Kenny wanted to be somewhere where no one could get him.

He stopped, panting, at the bus stop. Evening had not yet fallen and people were still out. Kenny sniffed, pulled off his hood, and wiped his face, not wanting anyone to know, to question what had happened. But then again, no one really cared about Kenny McCormick anyway…

Once the tears had stopped, Kenny was able to think more clearly about the situation. Whose house would he go to? He had no best friend – Cartman wasn't his best friend, no matter what the fat boy claimed. Kyle was nice, but Cartman was right – his mom was a bitch, and Kenny did _not _want to have to deal with that on top of everthing else. And even though he'd felt sorry for Butters earlier, Kenny knew he could never trust him with the secret.

He shivered as the snow brushed against his bruised, bloody cheek. He needed to find a place soon, he knew, or he'd freeze to death. But at this point, death almost sounded better than the torture he was having to endure in life…

He realized that he had begun walking towards town. He had no clue where he was going; it was as if his feet had a mind of their own. He could only hope that wherever they were taking him was the right place, somewhere he would not regret going. He knew he looked like shit - the wounds on his face were still bleeding and his coat was dirty and covered with spots of drying blood.

Kenny knew that whoever he chose to trust with his secret could not tell anybody, because it would obviously get back to his dad that he'd told. Though he had absolutely no problem with his father spending the rest of his life in prison, he knew that if his dad didn't go to jail, Kenny's life would be over. And by that, he didn't mean death. Kenny knew from experience that he would much rather be dead than have to live the life his father would create for him if he ever told anyone what was happening.

He turned onto a familiar street and would have smiled if he hadn't been so miserable. He knew now where he was going, and he was relieved. His feet had made a good choice.

As Kenny pulled on his hood and walked up the steps to the house of the one person who had the chance to make things better, he had another realization, a stupid, trivial thought – he could kill two birds with one stone tonight. Wendy would have her answer by dawn.


	7. Stan

A/N: Urgh. Sorry this took so long to get up, everyone! I've been having writer's block, and so this chapter may seem a little forced or rushed or whatever... but I don't think it's that bad. Hopefully you all agree. There are some things I really don't like about this chapter - namely, the fact that I kinda switched moods right in the middle, then switched back... but I do think I managed to keep both boys pretty IC. Well, Kenny, at least. There's a lot more dialogue than usual, too, and I'm afraid I might have gotten a little repetitive in some places...

Argh, this worrying is stupid. I'm just gonna shut up now and let you all decide what you think of the story for yourself. Thank you, **Helsinki Demon, Emerald's Shine, **and **Otempora42**!

Oh, and by the way, I listened to like every rock song I have while writing this (which isn't many, I'll admit), but I think the one that really shows in the writing is The Fray's "How to Save a Life." So yeah. Go angst.

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Ch 7 – Stan 

Kenny rung the doorbell and prayed. _Please let Stan answer please let Stan answerpleaseletStananswer_… His hands twitched uncontrollably. He had never felt so jittery in his life – he knew now what it was like to be Tweek.

The door opened slowly. "He- Kenny?!"

"Stan…"

"Dude! What- Kenny- I- _are you okay?!" _Kenny's hood shook back and forth. "Kenny- oh my God- _what happened?_"

Tears began to stream out from beneath the orange hood. "Stan…"

"What _happened_ to you?" Stan grabbed Kenny's arm and yanked him inside the dark house, slamming the door on the cold, snowy world. Kenny said nothing but continued to sob. All the crying he'd done today could have provided his family with water for a week.

Stan dragged Kenny into the living room and threw him, rather violently, on the couch. Kenny winced as one of his bruises slid against the upholstery.

"Tell. Me. What. Happened." Stan commanded, his voice deadly serious. Kenny gulped to stop his tears, then told Stan the entire story. The black-haired boy sat silently the whole time, his eyes slowly widening as Kenny poured out ten years' worth of a terrible secret. His voice shook as he described memory after memory of his drunken father, of fights, of the horrible beatings that he'd received ever since he was little.

Finally, Kenny reached the dinner incident. "And I ran, Stan, I ran away, I ran so fast… I- I thought he might've killed me, and I was so scared…" He started to cry again. Stan, who still hadn't said a word, looked as if he was about to be sick. "I don't wanna go back, Stan, I don't wanna go back there… I can't- I can't go back… please…"

Stan vomited over the side of the couch.

"Stan?"

"Shit, dude. _Shit._"

"Stan? You won't… please… you won't tell anyone, right?"

"Seriously? Kenny, your dad – he could've freaking _killed_ you! You could've _died!_" Kenny considered reminding Stan that he died every couple of days anyway, but decided it would be inappropriate.

"Stan, please… I just… don't tell." He knew Stan would not put up too much of a fight – that was just the way Stan was.

"Fine, dude..." He was right. "You sure? I mean, your dad could go to jail for this."

"That's the point."

"Okay, then, whatever you say…" Stan shrugged.

"Wait… your parents aren't home, are they?"

"Nope. Why?" Kenny slipped off his hood and Stan nearly puked again.

"What the _hell?_" Most of the blood on Kenny's face had dried and was now caked on his cheeks. "Kenny – he did this to you?" Kenny nodded and pulled off the rest of his coat, revealing large bruises covering his arms.

Stan did puke, this time all over the couch, some of it landing on Kenny's coat.

"Kenny, that's sick! We're- I'm calling 911, Kenny. Now."

"No!"

"Kenny, look at you! Look at your _face!_" Kenny was silent. Stan got up and began to walk towards the phone.

"Don't!" Kenny leapt and tackled Stan to the floor. They rolled around for several minutes, but Stan was much stronger; he stood up and started for the phone again, then suddenly stopped short and looked down to see Kenny attached to his ankle.

"Please… Stan… I'm begging you…"

"Fine." Stan sighed and sat down. He looked at Kenny expectantly, his eyes pressing the blond to go on.

"Stan… you can't tell anyone. You promised. No matter what happens, you can't tell." Stan opened his mouth to protest, but Kenny cut him off. "Not even Kyle, Stan. _You can't tell anyone._"

"Kenny… why did you… why did you come here?"

"I trust you," he said simply, and his eyes were so innocent that Stan believed him instantly.

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Yeah, of course. Mom and Dad are away for a couple days, and Shelley won't be back for hours. I don't think she'd care too much, anyway."

"Okay," Kenny nodded, too exhausted to say anything else.

"Let's go upstairs and get all your cuts cleaned off, then we'll head to my room, okay?" Another nod, and the boys started up the stairs, Kenny sending a prayer of thanks that his secret was safe.

"Hey, Kenny?" Kenny looked over from his spot on the navy blue sleeping bag at Stan, who was sitting on his bed playing nervously with the buttons on his pajama shirt. It was almost two in the morning, and Kenny had just woken up from a troubled sleep. Stan, on the other hand, had not been able to fall asleep at all, and had been watching Kenny sleep from the bed.

"Yeah?"

"We're, like, best friends now, right?" Well, no. They were not best friends. Kyle was Stan's Super Best Friend and everyone knew. But since Kenny _had _chosen Stan to keep his secret, and since it seemed like there was a case of let's-randomly-trust-Kenny-itis going around lately, Kenny decided to pretend they _were_ best friends, to pretend Kyle didn't exist.

"Uh, yeah, Stan. We're best friends."

"And best friends tell each other everything, and they don't tell the other friend's secret to anyone else no matter what. Like I promised not to tell yours." Oh, no… not more "secrets"… Kenny sighed, a sigh so small Stan didn't notice at all. Then again, Stan's focus was on those stupid buttons again.

"Yeah, of course."

"Okay, 'cause I have… I have a really big secret, Kenny, and you're the only person I trust with it." _No, not another "big secret"_… Kenny didn't care if it was a crush or child abuse, he couldn't stand another secret. Not tonight. But something in Stan's voice told Kenny he needed to hear the other boy out, so he just nodded silently, prompting Stan to continue. "I can't tell Kyle, 'cause… 'cause he wouldn't understand. And no way would I tell Er- Cartman. But I trust you, Kenny. I know… I know you trust me, and I trust you, too. And I know this, um, this secret isn't as serious as yours, but- I can't tell anyone, Kenny."

"Okay…"

"I- Kenny, I feel so bad making you have to deal with this, but I've thought a lot tonight, and I've been hiding this secret for so long… But I can't tell anyone!"

"Stan, what are you talking about? Are you hurting yourself?"

"No- yes- I mean, no, but it hurts… he… I can't be around him anymore because it _hurts!_"

"Stan, just tell me!"

"I- I don't know how! I already tried telling Kyle- " Stan punched himself in the leg angrily.

"Dammit, Kenny! Why does everything have to be so hard? Why do I- why does he make me feel like this?!" What the…

"Who, Kyle?" That must be it, the big secret. Stan was gay. Stan was in love with Kyle. It was actually kinda obvious, really, the way they spent every moment of their lives together and-

"No! Not Kyle!" It was Stan's turn to cry now. "Not… Kyle…"

"Then… who? _Who is it_, Stan?"

"C- Cartman!" Kenny's jaw dropped under his hood, and he was thankful Stan couldn't see. "I- I think I love him, Kenny!"

"You… you love Cartman? _Cartman_?" He was having a hard time disguising the disbelief in his voice.

"I don't know why, Kenny! I don't! I- He's a jerk! He's mean to me, he's mean to you, he's really really mean to Kyle! But lately whenever I'm around him my heart beats really fast and… I dream about him! _I dream about Cartman!_ Kenny, I don't know what's going on!" Kenny just sat there, dumbfounded.

"Stan, I- " _Cartman?_ _Eric Cartman?_ _World-famous bigoted fatass?_

"Don't tell."

"I won't, Stan!"

"I mean it, Kenny. I'm not going to tell your secret."

"I won't tell." And he meant it, too- he would not tell Stan's secret to anyone. Not just because Stan trusted him, either – if word got out that Stan was gay… he shuddered at the thought of what Wendy would do… of what _Kyle_ would do…

"Thanks, Kenny. I knew I could trust you."

Silence.

"Stan, are you- are you going to like- "

"Ask him out?"

"Yeah."

"I wish I could… but I'm so scared, Kenny. What if… what if he's not gay? What if he, like, makes fun of me… for being gay?"

"Why do you like him so much, if you think he'd make fun of you?"

"I- I think it's 'cause- I've always kinda been, I dunno, jealous of Eric- I mean Cartman. He's so _strong_- he never cries, he's never sad. He always finds a way out no matter what he's gotten into. I always wished I could be more like him, Kenny… and now I wish I could be _with_ him…" His voice trailed off as he cried quietly, his head in his hands.

"You want to be like Cartman?"

"Not the whole, like, fat rascist power-hungry asshole part. Just the fearlessness, the ability to not care no matter what the world does to him… you know?" Kenny considered this for a moment. He was right – it was like Cartman had a shield- no, a suit of armor, and it protected him from the sadness and misery of the world. Sure, Cartman cried at night – Kenny had heard him once during a sleepover – but he was still tough, unlike Stan, who, Kenny remembered, had once locked himself in his room for days just because Wendy broke up with him.

"Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Good." Stan yawned and clenched his blanket to his chest. "I'm gonna go to sleep now, Kenny."

"Me too." There was another silence as both lay in the dark, their heads full of secrets.

"Kenny?"

"Mhmm?"

"Thanks. You're… you're a good friend…"

"I know, Stan. Good night."

"G'nite, Kenny."


	8. Cartman

A/N: Well, here it is, everyone! The final secret... I take back everything I said about the other chapters being hard to write. This was almost impossible! What's funny, though, is the hard part about this chapter wasn't the important scene... it was the filler description - the little things, you know? But this _is_ the longest chapter so far. Yay!

I feel eh-ish about this one. I think the "secret-telling" is getting really repetitive... thankfully this is the last love secret. We can finally move on to the good stuff (if you're still with me, that is...)

A couple more notes: I realized the other day that my chapter numbering is WAY off. Three or four of the chapters are called Ch. 5. There is no one to blame for that but myself... sorry if it was confusing. Also, see if you can spot the reference to last night's episode ("Tonsil Trouble"). It's very, _very_ obvious. And one more thing: I think I accidentally let some Stan/Kenny sneak into this... (depends on how you look at it) which is weird because, although I do like that pairing, I've never tried to write it before.

Thanks to **Emerald's Shine, Helsinki Demon, nina-neko, **and **ktkitty4** for reviewing, as well as those of you who favorited. Hope this chapter meets expectations...

* * *

Ch 8 – Cartman

Stan's iPod alarm clock went off at 7:00 the next morning, blasting "I Love Rock 'N Roll" so loud it was surprising the neighbors hadn't filed a complaint for noise pollution. Kenny moaned and pulled his fluffy pillow over his head as Stan scrambled to shut off the alarm.

"Sorry," he blushed. "You want me to let you sleep some more?" Kenny pushed the pillow out of the way and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Nah, it's okay. I'm up."

"You sure? 'Cause I know I get up kinda early…"

"S'okay. I'm just used to my mom shouting at me to get up…" There was an awkward silence as memories of the night before flooded Kenny's head. "Um, Stan… you said your parents are away, right?" Stan nodded absentmindedly as he climbed out of bed.

"Don't worry. Shelley's home, but she won't care that you're here." He started for the bathroom. "Oh, wait, do you wanna take a shower first?"

"Could I?" A warm shower sounded amazing…

"Yeah, of course." Kenny smiled gratefully at his friend before shutting the door and pulling off his clothes.

On his way across the bathroom, he glanced at the mirror. _Ouch._ His pale body was completely covered in black-and-blue marks. It looked like he'd been run over by two- no, _three_ sixteen-wheelers. He prayed that there was no long-term damage and stepped into the shower.

The warm water felt good and bad at the same time – it soothed his aching muscles, but irritated his wounds. Kenny slid the bar of Ivory over his body, wincing as it touched the delicate bruised areas, then rinsed and shut the water off.

"That was a short shower!" called Stan from the bedroom. Kenny slipped on his clothes and opened the door. Stan, who was on his new computer, looked at him quizzically.

"Yeah, I know. It was kinda… it hurt," he shrugged, pulling up his sleeve and showing his friend a bruise as an explanation.

"Oh," said Stan simply, clicking out of a website and heading towards the bathroom. "Hey, feel free to play around on the computer. I take, like, notoriously long showers, so… yeah. Do whatever you want. Just don't download any viruses or anything, or I'm banning you from my house." Kenny looked at his face – he wasn't kidding.

"Okay, I'll be careful," he agreed, watching Stan enter the bathroom. He turned to the computer, a white iMac that Stan's parents had bought him for Christmas. Stan had left a program running. Curious, Kenny clicked.

AIM Buddy List opened up. Two buddies were online: _kyleb613 _and _WonderfulWendy_. Kenny chuckled at the corny screennames. Since he didn't own a computer and didn't go on the school ones much, he'd never instant messaged before. Suddenly a new name appeared on the list: _hippieexterminator_. _Nice name, Cartman,_ Kenny thought as _kyleb613_ disappeared.

A box popped up in the middle of the screen.

**hippieexterminator: **dammit

Kenny stared at the computer, unsure if he should write back or not. He glanced at the bathroom, where the sound of running water had already begun.

**hippieexterminator:** stan u there?

Cautiously, Kenny typed back.

**marshman14:** hey cartman. its kenny

**hippieexterminator:** wat r u doing on stan's sn?

**marshman14:** im at his house dumbass

**hippieexterminator: **o

Kenny bit his lip, hoping Cartman wouldn't question why he was at Stan's…

**hippieexterminator:** is stan in the room?

**marshman14:** no hes taking a shower

_Time for a subject change_, Kenny thought. He could hear Stan singing loudly in the bathroom.

**marshman14**: whyd u say dammit earlier?

**hippieexterminator: **o um

**hippieexterminator: **nvm

**marshman14: **no really wats up?

**hippieexterminator:** fine.

**hippieexterminator: **kyle logged off wen i logged on. it bugged me cuz i had something important 2 tell him

**marshman14: **mhmm… wat were u gonna tell him, that he's a stupid jew?

**hippieexterminator: **NO it was more important than that!!

**hippieexterminator: **listen i g2g

**hippieexterminator: **but can we talk later?

**marshman14: **um, yeah. sure. cya.

Kenny shook his head as _hippieexterminator_ disappeared from the buddy list. _What is with Cartman these days?_ He'd been acting really weird lately – not as mean as usual, not even to Kyle. _Maybe he likes Stan_, Kenny thought with a smile. No, even though Kenny would never tell Stan he thought this, if Cartman liked anyone, it was probably Wendy. Or Red.

Then again, Cartman could be gay… it wouldn't be that surprising. _But still… he wouldn't like _Stan_, would he? _If Cartman was gay…

The door opened and Stan, humming, walked into the bedroom with nothing on but the towel wrapped around his dripping black hair. He looked up and saw Kenny.

"Crap!" he shouted, diving for the pair of underwear and jeans crumpled in a corner as Kenny laughed. "Oh my God! Sorry, Kenny…" He blushed. "You were so quiet, and I- I had so much on my mind… I forgot you were here…"

"It's okay," said Kenny, realizing the situation was doubly awkward for Stan now that he knew he was gay. He turned to face his friend. "Nice singing, by the way. You should go out for American Idol." Stan's face turned an even deeper shade of red.

"You heard me?"

"Everybody heard you. You were louder than that stupid alarm clock of yours." Stan pulled the towel off his head and whipped it at the grinning Kenny.

"Loser. C'mon, it's 7:30. Want breakfast?" Stan picked up a tube of gel and squirted some onto his hand, working it into his hair as he walked towards the door. "We've got, um… Lucky Charms? And… er… toast. I think."

"More than what I've got," said Kenny, hopping off the computer chair and following Stan to the kitchen, where the two enjoyed a nutritious breakfast of Lucky Charms in chocolate milk (Stan assured him the cereal tasted better that way) before heading towards the bus stop.

As they approached the familiar bank of snow, Kenny could make out Kyle and Cartman, standing several feet from each other in stony silence. He grabbed Stan's arm. "You okay?" he whispered, motioning towards Cartman. Stan, whose face was slightly pale, bit his lip. Kenny hoped Stan wouldn't puke.

"Yeah. I- I just can't talk to him…" Kenny nodded understandingly.

"Hey, dudes," called Kyle, looking relieved. "What took you guys so long? I was alone with _Cartman…_" He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"I- Kenny spent the night," Stan shrugged. Cartman's eyes bored straight through Kenny's.

"Okay," said Kyle. "But where's your backpack, Kenny?"

"I… um…"

"It, uh, broke on the way here and all his homework got drenched in the snow," cut in Stan. "That's why we're late… we had to bring all his stuff back to my place." Kyle looked at Kenny, then shrugged and pulled Stan aside to whisper furtively about… Kenny didn't know what they were whispering about, nor did he really care. He focused on Cartman, whose eyes were now fixed on the Super Best Friends.

"Cartman, you okay?" He waved his hand in front of the fat boy's face.

"Huh? Yeah."

"You said you wanted to talk?" Cartman nodded.

"Listen. I'm gonna make this quick because I don't know how to say it any other way. I need to tell someone and I –"

"You trust me. I know, I know." Cartman's eyes narrowed, but he continued.

"I'm going to tell you a secret, Kenneh. I need you to promise not to tell anyone – or I'll make your life a living hell." _There's the Cartman I'm used to, _Kenny thought.

"Promise."

"You sure?"

"HIV-positive." He giggled, remembering Cartman's old joke from elementary school. Cartman rolled his eyes.

"Kenneh!"

"Sorry, sorry. I promise I won't tell." Cartman took a deep breath.

"I like the Jew."

"You _what?_"

"I like Kyle! Fine! There, I said it! You can laugh now." Kenny stared at his friend in shock. _Cartman and Kyle?_ That was so, so wrong. "Kenny?" He didn't answer. In the last 24 hours, he'd learned six secrets, two of which involved his close friends being gay. And not only was Cartman gay (he couldn't get that out of his head – Cartman, _gay_!) he had a crush on the person he'd hated all his life… "Kenny! Say something or I'll kick your ass!"

"Wow," was all Kenny said. This was too much for him. He glanced at Stan and Kyle, who had pulled out Stan's iPod and were bobbing their heads to the music. Seriously, if he had had to peg any two of the guys at his school as gay, he would've said Stan and Kyle without a moment's hesitation. But now that he knew their secrets… he watched as Kyle reached up and brushed a stray eyelash off Stan's cheek. Maybe they really were just extremely close friends. Super Best Friends.

"Kenneh, I'm serious. You tell anyone I like- tell anyone that I don't _hate_ that ginger Jew, I will personally beat the crap outta you. Got it?" Kenny nodded.

"Cartman?"

"What?"

"Do you… like… _love_ him?" _Stan loves you,_ he thought with a slight pang. What a mess they were all in...

"I dunno, Kenny. I- I think about him… a lot. And I make fun of him… because at least that means he talks to me, you know? But…" His voice trailed off.

"But what?" Kenny had a feeling he knew what Cartman was about to say.

"I… I don't think he'd ever like me… like that, you know? I look at his eyes… when he's talking to you or to- _Stan_…" He paused. "His eyes are happy. But when he's with me… they're hard and cold. Maybe someday he won't hate me as much… but he'll never like me." Kenny, unsure of what to say, timidly patted Cartman on the back.

"Who knows, Cartman? You never know…" _You really don't know, _thought Kenny. Up until a day ago, he'd thought he knew his friends… but now he realized there was so much more to a person than how they acted, what they looked like, the music they listened to…

The bus pulled up, distracting Kenny from his thoughts. The driver, a crabby, almost blind old man who, for some reason, refused to reveal his name to anyone, yelled at the boys to hurry up. Stan stuffed the black iPod back in his backpack and scrambled up the steps. Cartman followed slowly, huffing as he climbed up. This prompted a "Move it, fatass!" from Kyle, immediately followed by Cartman's usual "Ey! I'm not fat, I'm big-boned!"

Kenny laughed a little and stepped onto the bus just before Mr. Driver (they all called him that for want of a better name) closed the door. Today was going to be… interesting.

Didja like it? Are you sure? Are you HIV-positive...?


	9. On the Bus

A/N: Here it is! Chapter... 9? (my numbering is so screwed up.) Sorry it took so long... so very, very long...

Anyway, I like this chapter, but I don't love it. I'm a little worried it's way too cliched and/or unrealistic, but whatever. That's for you to decide, as usual.

disclaimer: I don't own American Idol. Or Sharpies. Well, I do own a couple of Sharpies… but that's beside the point.

* * *

Ch 9

Kenny didn't like bus rides too much to begin with, and being literally squished next to Cartman didn't make the trip any more enjoyable.

"Could you possibly take up any more room?" he groaned, repositioning himself so as to be able to breathe.

"Shut up, poor boy." Cartman pulled his backpack onto his lap and started rummaging through it. "Hmm…" He pulled out a bulging paper bag. _Eric's Lunch _was written in Sharpie across the front and decorated with hearts and flowers.

"You're eating your lunch _now?_ We haven't even gotten to school yet!" Kyle leaned over the back of the seat.

"This isn't my lunch."

"Last I checked, your name is Eric. Or are you too stupid to remember your own name now?"

"That's not what I meant, Jew!" Kyle rolled his eyes. "You know I buy lunch! This is my snack."

"You are _such _a fatass."

"Ey! I'm n- " Kyle ignored him and turned to Kenny.

"You forgot your backpack?" Kenny nodded. "So you don't have a lunch?"

"Does he ever?" laughed Cartman, unwrapping a Snacky Cake. "Kenneh's family is so poor, their- " Kenny looked straight into Cartman's eyes. _Do you really wanna go there?_ He tilted his head ever so slightly at Kyle. Cartman shut up. Ah, the wonders of blackmail…

"Kenny, do you want me to buy you a lunch?" Kyle asked. "I brought some extra money today – I was gonna donate it for that cancer fundraiser we're having – but if you don't have a lunch, you're welcome to have it. I can always bring some tomorrow." He grinned awkwardly.

_Dammit, _Kenny thought. He hated when his friends treated him like a charity case, even though he knew he was one. And he hated situations like this – he never wanted to accept the money, but if he didn't, they'd look at him like he was crazy. He needed the money, after all.

"Um… yeah, sure, Kyle. Thanks. That's… that's nice of you." Kyle nodded, sat back in his seat, and began to whisper furtively with Stan again. Kenny leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the jerks of the bus as they jostled his frail body and threatened to send him flying into the aisle.

Next to him, Cartman had finished the Snacky Cake and had started in on a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. The smell of peanut butter pervaded the air, filling Kenny's nostrils and calming his mind. He inhaled deeply and began to sort out his thoughts; right now his brain was more tangled and twisted than Cartman's logic.

_Kyle likes Bebe likes Butters likes Wendy likes Stan likes Cartman likes Kyle._ It didn't bother him that he wasn't included in the circle of love; it was much easier to deal with other people's problems than his own. He figured Kyle could probably get Bebe – she may have been a ditz, but Kyle wasn't that bad-looking, and she was smart enough to know that dating Kyle would be a good move. He doubted Bebe and Butters would get together, though, because Butters's parents wouldn't let him look at girls, let alone go out with one.

That ruled out Butters and Wendy. Wendy and Stan could've had a chance, but if Stan was gay, that kinda screwed up Wendy's plans a bit. And then Stan and Cartman… no. _No._ Cartman and Kyle could work, though, 'cause Cartman was so freaking manipulative he'd find a way to get Kyle to fall for him. Though, knowing Cartman, it would probably include some kind of animal torture, a celebrity, Butters, and the murder of two or three innocent people.

After a couple minutes of intense thinking, Kenny began to feel drowsy. The rough bumps of the bus started to take on a rocking rhythm, and before he knew it, he was fast asleep.

"_Kenny! Wake up!"_

"Mmmmm?" He rubbed his eyes and slowly opened them. All he saw was feet. _What the hell…?_

"Kenny, dude, are you okay?" He looked up. Kyle, Stan, Cartman, and Butters were staring down at him. Underneath him, he could feel the bus as it continued to bounce towards the school.

"What happened?" he mumbled. He had a headache.

"You fell asleep and fell off the seat," explained Stan.

"You landed on your head," snickered Cartman. Kenny glared at him and sat up, his hood falling off as he did so.

"Oh my gosh!" gasped Butters. "Wha- what happened to your face, Kenny? It's all icky and bruised!" _Crap._ Kenny yanked the hood back over his face.

"It's nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing," said Kyle skeptically. "Seriously, is something up? Falling asleep, now this… are you okay?" He bent down and slowly, gently, removed Kenny's hood again.

Kenny's eyes widened. He trusted Kyle, he really did, but he couldn't tell them what was happening. He felt nervous just knowing that Stan knew. How would he get out of this?

Suddenly Stan shoved Kyle out of the way, nearly tipping him over. "What the hell?" yelled Kyle, grabbing onto a bus seat to keep from falling.

"Um… sorry. The bus… knocked me off balance…" muttered Stan, reaching out a gloved hand to help Kenny up. Kenny straightened his hood.

"Thanks," he whispered, aware of the mess Stan had just averted. The other boy smiled softly.

"You guys are all such fags," snorted Cartman, who had long since tired of Kenny and had resumed eating. Kenny had the urge to shout "Look who's talking!" but thought better of it; sure, Cartman was an asshole, but he trusted Kenny, and Kenny knew how important it was to put your trust in someone else.

"I- uh, I'm not a fag, Eric," stuttered Butters, who looked genuinely confused at the whole ordeal. "I'm just bi-curious, and that's oka- "

"_Pussy_," coughed Cartman, and Kyle laughed. Cartman looked pleased with himself. Kenny pulled himself back onto the seat as Butters stumbled back to the rear of the bus, that innocent, puzzled expression still plastered on his face.

"You sure you're all right?" asked Kyle one more time, his bright green eyes boring a hole in Kenny's. "Those bruises looked pretty nas- "

"He's fine," cut in Stan, and Kyle looked surprised. "Look, let's just- we're almost at school. Kenny looks tired; we should leave him alone."

"All right, then," said Kyle warily, giving Kenny one more long stare. He climbed back into the seat next to Stan. Within minutes, Stan had him happily chatting about last night's _American Idol_.

"Well, that was retarded." Cartman rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Kenny, are you gonna start making this sleeping thing a habit? How am I gonna rip on you if you're not awake to hear it half the time?" Kenny sighed.

"You know, Cartman, I have fifth period with Kyle," he said. "Wouldn't it be _so_ unfortunate if I was to- "

"Fine, fine!" The bus stopped suddenly and Kenny was thrown forward against the seat. Cartman laughed.

"Everybody out!" Kenny picked himself up off the floor yet again, wincing as he leaned his battered left arm on the seat. Cartman grabbed his backpack and disappeared, followed by an exhausted-looking Stan. Kyle stayed behind.

"Kenny…" Kenny looked at his friend and tightened his hood.

"What?"

"If you- if there was something going on… you can tell me, you know that?" Kenny nodded.

"I'm fine, Kyle." It was obvious from the redhead's face that he fully doubted this, but he said nothing to contradict it.

"Get off the bus!" called the driver, and Kyle blushed.

"Let's get to class. You gonna be okay without your backpack?" Kenny nodded. "What about homework?"

"I'll say my brother pissed on it or something." Kyle giggled as they descended the bus steps. "No, I'm serious, Kevin did that once. He was, like, ten."

"If only I could get _my_ brother to do stuff like that. He wouldn't be so great then, huh?" Kenny looked at him, confused. Kyle sighed. "Mom and Dad think Ike's the greatest kid in the world just 'cause he skipped like four grades. Don't get me wrong, I love him and all, but it's really annoying being compared to your younger brother all the time, you know? It's like, if I get a ninety-five percent on a test, they're all 'Kyle, you need to work _harder_. Look at your brother, the straight-A-plus student. Why can't you be more like _him_?'"

"If I got a ninety-five percent on a test, my parents would automatically assume I cheated." Kyle laughed awkwardly. "Listen, you're the smartest kid in the grade- "

"No, Wendy is-"

"-and everyone knows it. Don't beat yourself up over what your parents think." Kyle smiled.

"Thanks, Ken."

"_There_ you guys are! What took you so long?" asked Stan, hurrying up to them. "I had to stand there waiting with Cartman. Ugh, he is _so_ annoying!" Kenny noticed a tiny smile on his face as he said this. "Anyway, guys, these are for you." Stan handed them each an envelope.

"What're these?"

"Invitations to Bebe's party tomorrow night. She squealed about how it's her first _real_ boy-girl party for like ten minutes."

"Who's invited?" asked Kenny, ripping his envelope open.

"Me, you, Kyle, Cartman, Wendy, Red, Craig, Clyde, Heidi. Oh, and Butters."

"She invited _Butters?_" laughed Kyle.

"Dunno, maybe she wanted a laugh. D'you think he'll come?" Kyle shrugged.

"Who knows? It's Butters." The bell rang and the boys split up for first period, leaving Kenny alone to think.

_So she invited Butters, huh? That'll be interesting… especially since Wendy's invited, too…_ _but Stan's invited… and Cartman…_

The second bell rang, interrupting his thoughts and commencing a new chapter in the soap opera that was Kenny's life.


	10. Bears, Blush, and Basketball

A/N: I just realized that I didn't thank all my reviewers in the last chapter, something I've been doing only for this story and would like to continue. So, huge thanks to **Isabella387, Daire, kyleisgod, nina-neko, Emerald's Shine, ktkitty4, Otempora42, shadowiscool28, Lady Dragon010, **and **Forts.** (Phew!) Oh, and a special mention to my friend Amu, whose (quite interesting) reviews you may have seen on some of my stories; she doesn't watch South Park, but she reads and critiques all my stories anyway. Now _that's_ a friend.

Anyway. I'm glad you guys are liking this story. It's a little roller-coaster-ish, in my mind - up and down with every chapter, and this one's no exception. Also, some of you will notice that I'm playing around with different Kenny pairings; he'll probably be with someone eventually, but I'm not sure who yet. Oh, and I snuck in some Craig/Tweek here for absolutely no reason - I don't even like the pairing, but I felt like putting it in. Weird, huh?

Enjoy the longest installment (so far!) of _Secrets._ Reviews are greatly appreciated, as always. :)

disclaimer: I don't own South Park... I don't own Care Bears... I don't own _Seventeen._ Done.

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Ch 10

Kenny's already crappy day got worse as the school day progressed. His science teacher gave him shit for not having his backpack, his math teacher gave him shit for not having his homework, and his Spanish teacher gave him shit for everything else (all _en espanol, _leaving Kenny to wonder if she'd said "You failed the test" or "Your mother is a whore.") Finally lunchtime came, though, and he allowed his tired body to be carried along through the sea of hungry students racing towards the cafeteria.

"Kenny!" A hand, light and slender and decorated with sparkly purple fingernails, grabbed his wrist and yanked him out of the traffic. "Did Stan give you the invitation?" Bebe tucked her blond curls behind her ear and bit her tongue expectantly.

"Um. Yeah. Yeah, he did," Kenny muttered.

"Oh, okay! Good. You think you can come?"

Kenny nodded. He didn't really feel up to all that excitement and drama, but hey, it got him out of the house for a couple hours.

"Great!" squeaked Bebe. "Omigod, this is gonna be sooo much fun! See you then!" Another wave of purple, and then she was gone, her miniskirt bouncing up and down as she disappeared into the crowd.

Kenny wandered through the halls and towards the lunchroom, quickly spotting Stan, Kyle, and Cartman already seated at the usual table. He sat down at his spot, noticing the tray in front of him was full of food.

"Uh, I think I have Cartman's lunch." Stan laughed and Cartman rolled his eyes.

"No, that's yours," said Kyle. "Remember, I said I'd get you a lunch?"

"Yeah, but what's with all the food? There an eating contest I don't know about? Not that it would matter, Cartman would win anyway."

"Ey!"

Kyle shrugged, ignoring Cartman's outburst. "Thought you looked hungry." _I'm not a damn charity case!_ Kenny thought, but he couldn't say that kind of thing to Kyle, not after this.

"Oh. Thanks," he mumbled instead, picking at a piece of Salisbury steak (not anywhere near as good as Chef used to make it). He was aware that though he _was_ starving, he'd probably only have a couple of bites.

Next to Kenny, Cartman was grimacing at his lunch tray, which was considerably less full than usual. "What'sa matter?" Stan asked through a mouthful of steak.

"Damn Jew took all the food for Kenny!" He banged his fist on the table. "It's _not funny_, Kenneh!"

"I never said it was. Here, you can have my steak." He stabbed it with his spork and dropped it onto Cartman's tray.

Kyle looked pissed. "He doesn't need that, Kenny. C'mon, you've gotta be starving."

"I'm okay, really." Kyle didn't look convinced.

"Hey, so, are any of you guys going to Bebe's party?" Stan cut in, spearing a piece of lettuce and shoving it in his mouth. Kenny grinned at him to show he was grateful for yet another interruption.

"I dunno," said Cartman. "I mean, it sounds kinda boring. But then again, Bebe's a total slut- "

"She is _not!_" Kyle threw down his spork.

"Hell yeah she is. Look at her freaking skirt." And he was right, Kenny observed – Bebe's mini barely covered her underwear.

"That doesn't make her a _slut,_ Cartman."

"Yes it does."

"No it doesn't!"

"Why the hell do you care, anyway?"

"I don't like hearing you insult people."

"That's not it. I think- I think you _like_ her. Kyle has a boner for Bebe!" Cartman laughed as he said this, but his eyes told Kenny something else.

"_I- do- not_," Kyle hissed, his face turning noticeably red. "I- I just- what has she ever done to you?"

"Everything." Cartman began gnawing on a drumstick.

"He- heya, fellas. Mind if I join you?" Butters slid into their table, preventing Kyle from spitting back a retort.

"Go away," sighed Stan, who looked thoroughly exhausted, possibly more so than Kenny.

"Um, ha- have you guys heard about Bebe's party?" Butters asked, popping a Care Bears fruit snack into his mouth.

"Yeah, are you going?" Cartman's face showed interest – probably feigned, Kenny decided – as he turned towards the blond.

"Mhmm. Bebe's not too nice, b-but I heard you guys were comin', and Wendy too, so I, uh, I think I'm gonna go." He bit off the head of a yellow fruit snack. "Aw, darn, I killed Funshine Bear." _You bastard, _Kenny thought with a smile.

"Oh, well, that's _totally_ awesome, Butters," said Cartman. "_So_ totally awesome. Can't _wait_ to see you there."

"Thanks, Eric," smiled Butters. "It'll be real- real fun, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. _Real_ fun," Cartman smirked.

"C'mon," said Kenny softly. "Leave him alone."

A split second of silence, and then Cartman burst out laughing.

"Are you kidding me? Leave _Butters _alone?"

"Well, I…" He didn't really know what to say; they all knew he hated Butters as much as they did. But for some reason… maybe all the abuse he'd taken from his family, from Cartman, had added up – maybe he felt sympathetic for Butters?

He shook his head. Nah.

"Just kidding," he muttered. Cartman grinned.

"Good. Hey, Butters, can I have a fruit snack?"

"Uh- uh, sure, Eric, which one d'ya want? I only have Grumpy Bear and, uh, Tenderheart Bear left, 'cause I always s-save Tenderheart Bear for last, since he's my favorite and all-"

"I'll take Tenderheart Bear, then," said Cartman sweetly, holding out his hand. Butters sadly placed the red snack in the cupped palm. "Watch this." Cartman tossed it up into the air and half-attempted to catch it with his mouth.

It landed on the floor.

"Oh, I'm _so_ sorry about that, Butters," snickered Cartman. Kenny noticed the fat boy shoot a glance at Kyle, who was trying to hide his giggle. Butters's eyes watered a bit, and he got up from the table.

"I- I gotta go, fellas," he said quietly. Next thing Kenny knew, Butters had disappeared into the sea of students leaving to go play out on the fields.

"What a loser," Cartman laughed, scraping the last bit of mashed potatoes off of his tray.

"I know." Stan crumpled up his napkin. "Jeez, he's so annoying!" Kenny thought Cartman was much more annoying than Butters, but thought it best not to say anything.

"Let's do something to him at the party," said Kyle nonchalantly, stretching his arms in front of him. Cartman grinned.

"Hell yeah! I- I mean, I'll think of something. Your stupid Jewish plans suck, Kahl."

"My _Jewish plans?_" Cartman nodded. "Screw you, fatass."

"You want to? Be my guest."

"Wha- _ew!_" Kyle stood up. "Listen, Stan, guys, I'm gonna go- um- I need to get a homework assignment from someone." He looked quickly at Kenny, then walked off.

"I'm in all his classes except for History," said Stan, rubbing his forehead. "But don't you have that with him, Kenny?"

"Yeah." He was pretty sure he knew what Kyle was up to. Stan craned his neck to look for his friend.

"Dude, what's he doing at the _girls'_ table?"

Cartman looked pissed. "You sound like a third-grader, Stan. _Ooh, cooties!_"

"I- I didn't say- "

"He's sitting with them," muttered Cartman. "See? Next to Bebe and Red. He's talking to them. Guys, we need to get him out of there!"

"Now who's acting like the third-grader?"

"Stan, he's in danger over there – I'm seriouslah! Everyone knows Heidi tries to give makeovers to any boy who comes within- " Kenny looked, and sure enough, Heidi had pulled out a case of who-knows-what and was leaning over the table, reaching for Kyle's hat.

"Oh, this looks bad," Stan snickered. "Kyle hates his hair- "

"Aren't you gonna help your friend?" Cartman demanded. Stan shook his head.

"I gotta watch this." Cartman rolled his eyes and got up as Kyle struggled to keep his ushanka on his head, which was getting harder and harder as more girls joined in.

"Listen, Stan, if you're gonna let him get attacked like that – what kind of friend are you?" He marched off towards the girls' table. Stan turned to Kenny.

"What kind of friend am _I?_ He hates Kyle!"

"No he doesn't," Kenny mumbled, but Stan's eyes were riveted on Cartman and he didn't seem to hear.

Ten minutes later, Cartman came back, dragging Kyle behind him. The redhead's face was decorated with what Kenny assumed must be the season's hottest shades, and his lips had been messily covered in cherry-red lipstick. It actually didn't look that bad, he decided, but then again, it wasn't Kenny's face resembling a page in _Seventeen._

"Toldja," said Cartman. "Just look at them." Heidi and Wendy were high-fiving, and Bebe was shaking with laughter. "What, may I ask, compelled you to go anywhere _near_- "

"I told you, I needed a homework assignment!" Kyle scrubbed furiously at his eyelids, which were painted light pink. "_Damn- Heidi- _"

"Dude, you've got- is this blush?" Stan looked at Kenny, who shrugged "You've got blush on your hat!" Kyle snatched it out of Stan's hands.

"Thanks for being so supportive, Stan." Stan laughed harder. "Listen, I'm gonna go to the bathroom… wash this off before English…" He shoved his hat (which _was_ dusted slightly pink in places) onto his head and rushed out of the cafeteria.

Ah, yes, lunch was Kenny's favorite subject.

* * *

All good things must come to an end, unfortunately, and before long the carefree cafeteria scene was gone, replaced by the significantly less scandalous and gossip-worthy backdrop of PE. PE wasn't that bad, really, for Kenny; or at least, it hadn't been until today. It seemed like with every step he took, a different limb ached. He was beginning to feel really exhausted again, and his head hurt.

"Kenny!" Craig waved to him from the basketball courts. "C'mon!" Reluctantly, Kenny walked across the soccer field and towards the group of guys that had assembled at halfcourt.

"What's up?"

"We need you to balance out the teams," explained Token. "Now we have an even number of people."

"Let's pick, then," said Craig, a little impatiently. "Token, you first."

"All right, I get… Kenny," decided Token.

"I get Tweek." Tweek looked surprised at being picked second. Craig shrugged. "You're a fast runner."

"Clyde."

"Pip."

"You… you, the goth kid." The boy sighed, flipped his hair out of his eyes, and walked over next to Kenny.

"Uh… Tweek."

"You already picked him."

"Oh." Craig looked at the last two standing. "You sure I picked Tweek already?"

"Yes, dammit!" shouted Cartman (one of the two left standing, of course.)

"Oh. Um… I pick Butters… no, Cartman… no…"

"I get Butters," interjected Token. "Since we'll be standing here all day otherwise." Craig turned and gave Pip the finger. Kenny was unsure as to why he did this, but then again, Craig's middle finger was his trademark body part, similar to Nurse Gollum's fetus and Cartman's fat.

"Ey! That's not fair! Token's team is stacked!" Token sighed.

"Cartman, how could my team be stacked? We all suck at basketball. The only one who can play is Kyle, but _he_ has PE fourth period." Everyone grumbled at this; how could the world be so unfair?

"You're black!" Token rolled his eyes.

"Does that automatically make me good at basketball?" Cartman nodded. "Stereotyping asshole."

"Can we just play?" cut in Clyde. "PE's over soon." The boys disbanded and set up.

Kenny wasn't too bad at basketball; he was better than Cartman and worse than Kyle (but then again, that was true for most of them). He made one or two shots, blocked Pip's attempt at a layup, and got some nice passes in to Clyde, his team's best player. It seemed as if the game would go without a problem until Tweek, who had lost control of the ball and was barreling downcourt to get it, smashed into Kenny and knocked him straight to the ground.

He landed hard on his battered left arm, wincing as the still-fresh bruises collided with the hard blacktop. Hot pain shot through his arm, making him cry out.

"Jesus! I'm sorry! I'msorryI'msorry! Gah!" Tweek flung the ball aside, narrowly missing Butters, and kneeled down next to Kenny. "Are you okay? Are you?! Did I kill you? Oh my God I ki- "

"Calm _down,_" said Craig, grabbing Tweek's flailing wrists. "Kenny, dude, you 'kay?"

"Yeah- " Kenny tried to push himself up. "Ow! Ow, crap- ow- " Hands- he wasn't sure whose- grabbed his side and helped him up.

"Is it your arm?" Token asked.

"Oh, is it broken?" The goth kid craned his neck to get a look.

"N- no, I don't think so…" It wasn't broken, thankfully, but it still hurt like hell. He pushed up his jacket sleeve to inspect the damage, then remembered where he was and yanked it back down again.

"Sh-should I get you some ice, Kenny?" Butters looked concerned. "Or, or do you wanna go to the nurse?"

"I'm _fine_, Butters," he said. The boy looked a little hurt, so Kenny added, "But thanks, you know, for trying to help and all."

"So shall I assume this sporting event has concluded?" Pip leaned into the circle that had gathered around Kenny, but Cartman immediately pushed him out again.

"Pip, I didn't think it was possible, but you get gayer every year."

"Listen, guys, the bell's about to ring. I don't think there's much of a point in finishing," Clyde said.

"Well, who won?" Craig was like this, Kenny noticed – didn't matter what happened, didn't even matter if he won, as long as he knew the score.

"I think we did," said Token. "Yep, we got 12 and you guys got 8."

"Aw, c'mon! Told you they were stacked!"

"Our team wasn't _stacked!_"

"Yes you were!" The boys quickly circled around Token and Cartman, preparing for a fight. Kenny thought it best to stay out of it, and, as the bell rang, he wandered away, dreading seventh period almost as much as he was dreading going back home.


	11. Tomorrow Night

A/N: Ahh! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Gah... stupid writer's block!

Meh, I don't really like this one that much... which is probably why it was so hard to write. I feel like I didn't put enough emotion in it - but that's just me. Again, you know how much I love all your input, and I hope you'll give me some on this chapter.

Thanks to **EllenLiz, Daire, Forts, I so call kyle, Emerald's Shine, JVM-sp150, ktkitty4, Knuxz, StansGirl512, **and **nina-neko** for reviewing since last time. Sorry it took me so long to get this up... the next chapter (Bebe's party! Woohoo!) should come a bit quicker - it'll be longer and have a lot more romance-stuff in it, for those of you who happen to enjoy that. Oh, and I'm thinking maybe about 2-3 more chapters for the entire story, so... yeah.

Anyway... reviews are much appreciated, as usual, and I hope you enjoy chapter 11 (or whatever) of _Secrets_. By the way, did anyone notice the chapter title? "Tomorrow night, our lives will change..." You know, from SP:BLU...

disclaimer: South Park isn't mine... blah.

* * *

Ch 11

"_Psst." _Kyle tapped Kenny on the shoulder, unknowingly pressing down right on a particularly big bruise. _"Kenny."_

"What?"

"You had PE last period, right?" Kyle asked. Kenny nodded. "Didja see the fight?"

"What fight?"

"Cartman and Token." Kenny shook his head. "You didn't see it? I heard they fought in front of the whole class, even the teachers."

"I left early," Kenny shrugged.

"Oh, well, you won't believe what happened!"

"What?"

"Cartman's in the hospital!" Kenny couldn't tell whether the look on Kyle's face was joy, or pity, or something else entirely.

"Seriously? What happened to him?"

"Oh, Token beat him up pretty bad. Broke his leg or something."

"Cartman lost to _Token?_" Then again, Cartman lost to everybody…

"Class, settle down!" called Ms. Robinson, entering the room. "Now, I know you're all totally excited for today's Civil War presentation. Jimmy, will you please present your report?"

Jimmy stumbled to the front of the room and began his speech. It was probably very interesting, Kenny decided, but he had no clue what it was about – the boy's stutter had grown worse over the years, and it was now almost impossible to decipher what he was saying.

As Jimmy went on about the uniforms of the Civil War – or maybe it was the weapons? Kenny couldn't tell – someone dropped a note, folded into quarters, onto Kenny's desk. He took his eyes off of Jimmy, who was apparently telling some joke about Robert E. Lee, and opened it.

_Do you know if Butters is coming to my party?_

_-Bebe_

She'd drawn a little heart right above Butters's name. Kenny sighed and flipped the note over.

_yeah, he's coming_.

He folded it twice and passed it to Jason behind him, who passed it to Red, who passed it to Pip… finally Kenny saw it drop into Bebe's hands, and he turned back to face the front of the room just as Jimmy was finishing his report.

"Very good, Jimmy," said Ms. Robinson in a voice that told Kenny she hadn't understood a word either. "I can tell you did… a lot of research. Good job." Jimmy grinned, bowed, and hobbled back to his seat. "Class, if you could open your books to- "

Suddenly the loudspeaker crackled, and the principal's voice filled the room. "Students and teachers, may I have your attention please. There has been… an accident. Um… in the…. the janitor's closet? No, sorry, the bathroom. And the cafeteria." Kenny heard papers crackle, and the principal cleared her throat. "Yeah, so, anyway. We have to evacuate due to… safety concerns. Everyone must clear the building now. And… go home. Okay. Bye." The announcement ended and the class was silent.

"Well! You heard the principal – we have to evacuate! Go, go!" The students cheered, flinging their backpacks over their shoulders and dashing out of the room. "Kenny! C'mon, leave!" Ms. Robinson called. "It's dangerous inside!"

He rolled his eyes again and hopped out of his desk. Seriously, what was with all the adults in South Park? Kyle's six-year-old brother was more reliable.

Kenny walked slowly through the hallway as kids rushed by, screaming and yelling and making all sorts of noise that he really didn't need right now – his headache had returned and he just wanted to go home.

No, wait, he didn't want to go home. But he had to – if he didn't bring his homework by the next day, he was screwed.

But he was screwed if he went home, too…

Suddenly a hand clamped down on his shoulder. "You okay?" Stan asked, squeezing his arm lightly. Kenny nodded. "You wanna, like, come over or whatever?"

"No… I mean, yeah, but I think I should go home, you know?" Stan raised an eyebrow.

"You sure? Even after…" He motioned to Kenny's arm. Damn. With all the excitement and confusion, he'd forgotten about his arm. But now that Stan had reminded him, the pain came rushing back full force.

"I think I should go home. You know, just to let them know I'm alive…" He wondered if his dad would care. He wondered if his parents had even missed him…

"All right. But if you need to… you can stay another night at my place. I don't want…" He shook his head. "Please. Just… if that bastard touches you again, you gotta come over, 'k?." Kenny nodded.

"Yeah."

They reached the front of the school. The bus hadn't come yet, so they had to walk.

"Guess I'll see you, then?" Stan waved awkwardly, turning in the direction of his house. Kenny waved back and began to walk the other way, his head pounding and his muscles aching with every step.

* * *

"KENNY!" He slammed the door behind him and clenched his eyes shut. "KENNY, IS THAT YOU?" His older brother emerged from the kitchen and passed him quickly.

"Dude, I'm outta here. Sucks to be you." Kevin slipped through the door and ran out into the snow.

"Kenny! Get in here!"

"Coming!" He knew he had to get it over with now. He knew, but he sure as hell didn't want to…

"KENNY!" Kenny took one last deep breath and stepped into the kitchen, where his mother waited, one hand on her hip and the other enclosed around a bottle of beer. She took a long drink and stared at him.

"Hey, mom," he muttered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Wh- where's Dad?" Kenny tried to make his voice sound calm, but he doubted he was putting on a very good act.

"He's sleeping, and you better not wake him up." Good. He wouldn't have to deal with his father till later – his mom was easy. Mrs. McCormick set down the bottle. "Where the hell were you last night, Kenny?" Her voice wasn't angry anymore, just tired.

"I went to a friend's." He felt like laughing as he imagined Kyle, always complaining about his mom's prying. Kyle didn't know how lucky he was…

"Go to your room," Mrs. McCormick sighed. That was all? "Your father'll deal with you later."

His father would deal with him later…

Sometimes Kenny wondered if Cartman's lack of a dad really was as unfortunate as everyone said. _Cartman!_ Shit, he'd forgotten about Cartman. He quickly shut the door to his room and raced over to his backpack, which was right where he'd left it yesterday – hanging over the side of his chair. Kenny pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open.

**KENNY: dude r u okay?**

He didn't really care, actually, but Cartman _had_ come to see him when _he_ was in the hospital…

The phone buzzed within minutes. He opened it quickly to avoid anyone else hearing.

**CARTMAN: yeah but that stupid black asshole broke my leg! and hes not in any trouble at all! im gonna kill that son of a bitch!**

Kenny sighed. Leave it to Cartman to be pissed about the punishment and not the pain… but at least he was okay. And, for some reason, Kenny was relieved. Maybe it was the thought of having to hang out at the bus stop without Cartman – watching the Super Best Friends whisper and laugh without him – or maybe Cartman was closer to him than he'd thought. Whatever the case, at least Cartman wasn't seriously hurt. Kenny didn't know if he could deal with that on top of everything else.

Which reminded him… he still had to finish that math homework. Damn. This was gonna be a long night.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, Kenny was lying on his bed, listening to his iPod and trying to relax. He wasn't doing a very good job of it, but that wasn't too surprising, considering the stuff he had on his mind: his father, his arm and other various injuries, Cartman, Bebe's party…

That was another thing. Why _was_ Bebe's party so important to him? He'd been to a few parties in the past couple months, and nothing exciting ever really happened; once Craig had managed to sneak in a few bottles of beer, but Kenny hadn't gone anywhere near it. He doubted Craig would try it again – not at Bebe's, anyway, because her dad was a retired military general and had made it clear on several occasions that you were not to screw with him unless you wanted your ass kicked.

Kenny rolled over onto his stomach and pressed his cheek into the flimsy pillow. Damn, he hated that pillow. He didn't tell his friends, but the main reason he liked sleeping over was their pillows – infinitely more fluffy, so much nicer to sleep on…

He was trying to figure out whether today was a dinner day – it wasn't, because it was Wednesday – when his dad's voice boomed, "KENNY! GET OUT HERE!"

Trembling, Kenny sat up, tugged the headphones out of his ears, and shoved the iPod deep into his backpack. _Why_ hadn't he gone to Stan's? It was too late now, anyway. He straightened his hood and shut the bedroom door behind him.

Suddenly, he found himself on the ground. "You think you can just run away from your problems? Huh?" Stuart kicked him in the leg. "What'd I say last night about real men?"

Kenny bit his lip but remained silent.

"_What did I say?"_ His dad swung another blow. Kenny winced as the rough knuckles connected with his jaw.

"Stuart, don't," whispered Mrs. McCormick from the kitchen doorway. Kenny wondered briefly where his brother was, but decided he didn't really care. All Kevin ever did was sit and watch…

But would Kenny do the same if it was his brother getting beaten? He hoped not, but he couldn't tell for sure. For some reason, Kevin never got as much as a scratch, while Kenny – he remembered looking in the mirror that morning at Stan's, seeing the bruises, the blood…

"Shut _up!_" yelled Kenny's dad, swinging another fist, this one smashing into his right shoulder. Kenny was about to shout that he hadn't said anything, but realized Stuart was yelling at his mom. She made a little noise like a scared kitten and retreated back into the kitchen.

"You gonna run away again?" Stuart growled. "You gonna run? You run, boy, and you ain't never coming back." He hated when his dad talked like this – the slurred speech, the sloppy words. No one else ever had to hear this; they all knew Mr. McCormick as the lazy town drunk, that was all. Could've made something of himself, didn't, and therefore ended up with that shack for a house, lazy scrap of a wife, and those good-for-nothing kids. But he was still a good person, they all said. Shame he'd had so much misfortune, but he was still a good person.

Kenny pulled his hood tighter. Was he trying to protect himself? He didn't know. It was a reflex, he guessed. It didn't serve much of a purpose, anyway; the next punch felt just as bad, if not worse, than the ones administered previously. He wondered what his face looked like, wondered if he'd be able to hide the fresh bruises tomorrow at school.

Finally Stuart stopped. He spit on his son and turned, apparently going back to bed. Kenny stayed huddled against the wall, though, pulling his hood tighter and tighter until he thought he might choke.

_He might choke…_

Kenny grabbed the cords that came out of his hood and tugged just a little tighter. Then a little more…

No. He couldn't do this. He shook his head and released the cords. There was so much he had to do… school, his friends, Bebe's party…

What was it about Bebe's party? _Something pretty damn special better happen tomorrow night_, Kenny thought. And by "special", he didn't mean watching Craig get drunk and do a stripdance on top of the coffee table.

No, something _big_ was going to happen, he could tell. What with all those "secrets" his friends had… something was bound to happen. Now he just had to make it through the next twenty-four hours…

Kenny picked himself up off the floor and slowly made his way back to his bedroom. _I can do this_, he thought. _Sleep, school, and then…_

_Tomorrow night._


	12. It Ends Tonight

A/N: It's been a long time, and I apologize. This was the hardest - and longest! - thing I've ever written, and I'm still not completely satisfied, but I've spent so much work on this that I need to get it out.

There's a _lot_ of angst and drama in here. Too much, maybe. I hope it's still realistic, though - even though it's also very rushed at the end in my mind. I'm going to stop talking now 'cause I could go on for hours about things I hate about this chapter. That's not my job, it's yours :P

Many thanks to **StansGirl512, Daire, JVM-sp150, Emerald's Shine, I so call Kyle, Forts, Luna C. Starque, KnuxZ, 15animefreak15, **and **nina-neko **for reviewing. I hope you'll like this one even though it's a little different.

This is the end, by the way. I've already written the epilogue - it's short, but I think it wraps everything up. Please include any burning questions you have in your review, so I don't forget to tie up all the loose ends. The epilogue will be up in a couple of days... I'll write more in that A/N.

I'm really anxious to hear what you all have to say this time. :D Oh, and before I shut up, the title of this chapter? It Ends Tonight? I fell in love with this song about a week and a half ago, and it was on repeat the entire time I was writing this. So it's to blame for all the angst.

Enjoy.

disclaimer: South Park is Matt&Trey's, "It Ends Tonight" belongs to The All-American Rejects.

* * *

Ch 12

"Kenny?" Kyle waved his hand in front of his friend's hooded face. "Kenny, dude, what's wrong?"

Kenny blinked. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't… get a lot of sleep last night." And he hadn't – he'd been up for hours tossing and turning because every way he tried to sleep just _hurt_.

Kyle pressed on. "There's something wrong. You were like this all yesterday, too. And your face…"

"There's nothing wrong with my face." Kenny grabbed the drawstrings of his parka and pulled. Kyle looked unconvinced.

"Look, dude, all I'm saying is I'm worried about you. I'm your friend, you know? If anything's happening – I want you to tell me."

"'Kay." He wanted to trust Kyle, he really did. But he was wary about having two people know his secret – a lot harder to keep track of it, and a lot more likely that it would get out.

And Kenny did _not_ want it to get out, under any circumstances.

"Hey, guys," called Stan, trudging up to the bus stop. "Wait. Where's Cartman?"

"Broke his leg," said Kyle. "Didn't you hear?"

Stan shook his head. "Wait- so will he be coming to Bebe's party?"

"I hope not." Kyle rolled his eyes. Stan, on the other hand, looked disappointed.

"I think he's okay," put in Kenny. Stan smiled a bit.

"Anyway, are you excited?" Kyle asked.

"About what?"

"Bebe's party, dumbass." Kyle looked down at the snow.

"I guess so," Stan shrugged. "I mean, it's just a party." He glanced at Kenny. "Nothing special."

They stood there for the next few minutes in silence, waiting for the bus. It was a lot less… _exciting_ without Cartman there, Kenny realized. Even though he was a complete asshole, at least he gave them all something to talk about.

Besides, Kenny noticed, the atmosphere had always tended to reflect Stan's mood, and with Cartman gone, he was unhappy – hence the awkward gloom that hung heavily in the air.

Suddenly the bus screeched to a stop in front of the three boys. The door swung open and Mr. Driver yelled at them to get on, kinda-but-not-really cracking the silence as Stan, Kyle, and Kenny looked at each other wordlessly before climbing up the steps and quietly choosing their seats.

Or, more specifically, Stan and Kenny followed Kyle to a seat in the middle of the bus, which was conveniently located in the row right in front of Bebe and Wendy.

"Do we have to sit in front of _them?_" Stan muttered as he slid in next to Kenny. The seats were designed for two, but Kenny was so thin that he fit easily next to the window.

"It's the only seat open," whispered Kyle, ignoring the seats in front of Butters and Dougie three rows up and the open spot next to Red in the back. Stan shrugged.

"'Kay." He dug around in his backpack and pulled out his iPod as Kyle turned to the row behind them. "Kenny?"

Kenny nodded and pushed his hood back just an inch, enough to let Stan pop in one of the earpieces but not enough so that Kyle might see anything suspicious.

Stan did, though.

"Dude," he whispered, glancing at Kyle. "Your ear-"

"Damn." Kenny reached up and touched his right ear, which was sore. He picked off some dried blood from the lobe; the wound opened and began to bleed freely. "Stan-"

Stan stared at the blood and said nothing.

"Dude, get me-" Kenny lifted his hand from his ear and looked at it. It was bright red.

"_Shit,_ Kenny!" cried Kyle, breaking away from his conversation with the girls. "Oh my God- dude! Um, um-" He reached into his backpack and pulled out a pack of tissues. "I dunno if these'll help stop the- dude- "

Without a word, Kenny grabbed the tissues and held the whole pack to his ear. The pressure felt good – it lessened the pain that had shot through his entire body, red-hot and sudden. Stan took one look at the tissues – which must have been completely soaked with blood, Kenny realized – and retched. Kyle immediately put his arms around his friend while still staring worriedly at Kenny.

"Keep your head between your knees, there, steady breathing, okay, _Kenny, what the hell?_" Kyle rubbed Stan's back. Kenny bit his lip and pressed harder against his ear. He could feel the blood leaking through the tissues. Shit, what if this was serious?

Wendy leaned over the seat. "Kyle, is Stan-" Out of the corner of his eye, Kenny watched Bebe grab her friend's arm and pull her back down. Snippets of their whispered conversation drifted over the seat.

"-but I wanted to see-"

"-too obvious-"

"-my friend-"

Kenny sighed, a little too loudly. Kyle's head shot back up.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He knew Kyle wouldn't take that for an answer, not after this.

And he was right.

"Something's wrong, Kenny," Kyle said firmly. "You're hurt, and I want to know why." Stan mumbled something from his doubled-over position. Kenny fought the urge to kick him under the seat.

"Look, I-" Kenny didn't know what to do. Tell Kyle the truth and risk exposure of his secret? Risk his dad finding out, risk- everything?

Or lie to Kyle for the umpteenth time? Lie to one of his best friends, who'd always been there for him, who always had his back?

It was one of the hardest decisions he'd ever had to make. Stan had been easy to tell, the perfect choice. Stan had a sense of ethics, but at the same time he was easy to mold, easy to convince. Kyle, on the other hand, was rigid in his morals, due, no doubt, to the heavy influence from his justice-seeking mother. There was no telling whether he'd be able – whether he'd be _willing_ – to keep Kenny's secret.

But at the same time, Kyle was really concerned about him…

"Tell him," muttered Stan, sitting back up and rubbing his forehead. "Tell him, Kenny."

"Tell me what?" pressed Kyle. "Stan, what is it?"

Stan glanced at Kenny, who nodded and repositioned the blood-soaked tissues on his wounded ear. "Go ahead."

"All right," shrugged Stan. He leaned over and whispered in Kyle's ear. Kenny watched silently as Kyle's expression turned to one of utter horror, until he looked more likely to puke than Stan.

"_Fuck,_ dude," he whispered, looking over at Kenny. "You've gotta be shi-"

"Nope," Stan muttered. "He… yeah."

"Oh my God."

"Yeah."

They sat like that for what was probably thirty seconds but felt like thirty minutes –Kenny, his heart pulsing more loudly than usual, beating against the damp tissues, Stan, his hands twitching as he glanced uneasily back and forth between his two friends, and Kyle, his mouth wide open in shock as he fumbled for something to say other than "Oh, my God." and "Shit, dude."

Finally he found it.

"Why haven't you called the _police?_ Told an adult? Teacher, mayor, your _mom,_ somebody?"

"My mom already knows," Kenny muttered. "She- she knows."

"Why doesn't she _do_ something?"

Kenny shrugged. "Kyle, please don't-" But Kyle'd already pulled out his cell phone, despite the fact that they weren't allowed on the bus.

"I'm calling 911."

"No, you're not!" Kenny yelled. Stan and Kyle started, unused to outbursts from the normally quiet boy.

"Yes I am-" Kyle began, but Kenny's shout had caught the girls' attention.

"Kyle, why do you have your phone out?" Wendy asked, leaning back over the seat. "You're gonna get in tro-"

"It's an emergency," Kyle tried to explain, but Bebe's hair – followed by the rest of her head – had already joined Wendy.

"Oooh, Kyle's gonna get in trou-ble," she sang flirtatiously, tweaking his hat. Kyle blushed, and Kenny couldn't help but follow Bebe's gaze, which led not to Kyle but to Butters, three rows up.

"Bebe, I-"

"Lemme see," she giggled, reaching over and snatching the phone from Kyle's hands. "Hmm… ooh, look, Wendy! His texts!" The two girls bent over the screen.

Kyle's face turned even brighter red, and he seemed to forget all about Kenny as he leaned over the back of the seat and grabbed for his phone. Kenny sighed, relieved, and Stan laughed.

"Give it back, guys," he called over the seat. "Kyle doesn't want you reading his _private messages_." This prompted another round of laughter from the girls.

"Oh, oh, I know," said Wendy. "We'll give it back if you boys tell us who you li-"

"No _way_!" cried Stan and Kyle simultaneously. Wendy and Bebe looked startled, and Kyle lunged for the phone again, smacking Bebe's wrist. It flew out of her hands and clattered to the bus floor.

"Shit," whispered Kyle. Bebe bit her lip as Wendy reached down to pick it up. It was still on, but the LCD was fuzzy and unreadable.

"I don't think it's broken," Bebe muttered, taking it from Wendy and handing it to Kyle. "I-"

"My mom is going to _kill_ me," he whispered, running his thumb along the screen. "I just got this phone too…"

Kenny imagined Mrs. Broflovski, screaming with blind rage and waving the phone around. Truthfully, she sounded almost _fun_ compared to his dad.

Kyle seemed to realize this, though, because he suddenly looked up, straight into Kenny's eyes. "I mean- she'll be disappointed…"

Kenny stared straight back, unsure of what to say, the tissues still pressed against his no-longer-bleeding earlobe. In between them, Stan shrunk down in his seat. Bebe and Wendy, obviously confused, glanced at each other and then sat back.

"Kenny. Dude. I'm sorr-"

"Don't be," Kenny muttered. "I just- don't tell anyone, okay?"

Kyle shook his head. "You- we've gotta tell. Your dad could seriously hurt you, Kenny."

"Don't tell."

Stan looked up. "Kenny, he's got a point. Look at you- you're covered in bruises. Kyle hasn't even _seen_ half of them." Kyle's eyes widened. "We don't want anything worse to happen, dude."

"Don't tell." He felt like a broken record, one that people still played from time to time just to bring back the memory of the old days, the days before CDs, but whose lyrics were flat and outdated. No one listened.

"Kenny," said Kyle softly, "why do you have such a problem with us telling? What's gonna happen?"

"He's afraid his dad-" Stan began, not bothering to wait for Kenny to answer. Oh well, it didn't really matter – Kenny hadn't been planning on answering anyway.

"Kenny, you have to tell! Your dad'll go to-"

"Don't tell, Kyle. I mean it." Kenny tried as hard as he possibly could to make his voice dead serious.

It worked. Kyle bit his lip and nodded, resigned. "I won't. I promise. But I still think you should…" Kenny shook his head. "Okay. I won't tell."

Now all Kenny could do was pray Kyle would keep his word.

* * *

The rest of the day seemed to move much more slowly than usual, probably due to the absence of Cartman.

Lunch was boring; Stan and Kyle spent the period whispering furtively and glancing at Kenny every thirty seconds. He didn't feel like playing with the other guys during PE – it wasn't worth the risk of getting injured again, he thought, rubbing his sore arm. And History was more useless than ever; Pip gave a report on what was supposed to be the customs of Civil War soldiers, but somehow ended up more like an advertisement for the U.K. And Kenny had always thought Pip was French…

He lifted his head from his arms and stared at the clock. _Only three minutes to go_. Kenny wasn't sure exactly _what_ he was looking forward to – a beating? Yeah, that party was tonight, but he had hours before it started.

He wasn't sure if he even wanted to go anymore, anyway. Maybe he should just tell Bebe he wasn't coming…

But where would he go? Kenny shook his head. _Aargh._ Why was life so freaking _confusing?_ If he went, he'd get a headache from all that stupid drama. If he didn't go, he'd get… well, he'd get aches all over, that was for sure.

_Damn this_. Kenny buried his head back in his arms. He wished he could disappear – just for a day, you know? Just enough to clear all the shit from his head… then he'd come back and deal with it all.

Why was it that he never died when he actually _wanted_ to? Kenny sighed. He knew the easy way, knew it would take only a few minutes, knew he'd come back after a day, just like he wanted. But there was something about taking his own life…

Kenny shuddered. He wouldn't do that. He couldn't. He wasn't, like, emo or anything – and he sure as hell wasn't a coward. That's what suicide was, right? Running away.

Kenny was done running.

The bell rang, and he got slowly out of his desk as the other kids flooded out of the room. Bebe flew past him, knocking Kenny back over the chair. He caught himself before he could go crashing to the floor again.

"Omigod, I'm _so_ sorry, Kenny!" Bebe squeaked, offering a now-pink-nailed hand to him. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he muttered, brushing himself off. "Hey, listen, about the party-"

"You're coming, right?" She bit her lip. "Please? Kenny, I'm scared about But-" She looked quickly over her shoulder and leaned in closer to Kenny, lowering her voice to a whisper. "No one else knows I like him, Kenny. I don't know what I'm gonna do tonight!"

"What do you mean?" Kenny slung his backpack over his shoulder and the two of them exited the room.

"Well…" Bebe blushed. "I was thinking, y'know, at the party, we'd, like, playakissinggame."

"A what?"

"You know… like Spin the Bottle. Or Seven Minutes in Heaven. I dunno." She looked down. "But… see, what if I have to kiss him? What if he doesn't…" Her voice trailed off.

"I- I think it'll be okay, Bebe," Kenny improvised. "Butters… uh, I'm sure he likes you."

"You think?" she squealed.

"Yeah…" Kenny sighed. _Good going_. What was he doing – making the web more tangled and confusing?

"Eeeeee!" Bebe grinned and threw her arms around Kenny. "Omigod… I have to go home!! Bye, Kenny!" She bounced off. No, really, she bounced. Kenny watched as her curly hair flew behind her, smacking against her purple-clad back.

_Wow._ She was a weird one, that Bebe… or maybe it was all girls. Maybe Cartman had it right when he wrote that report the year before on all females being "stupid dirty hos". He _had_ gotten an A, after all…

Then again, their English teacher last year had been Mr. Garrison (yet again), who had been in the midst of a male chauvinism phase.

Nice to know you could count on South Park adults to be consistent, huh?

* * *

"Why do you keep coming back?"

"Huh?" Kenny pushed his hood back and stared at his brother. "You know I don't know why. It's a mys-"

"No, not coming back to life." Kevin sighed and leaned back against the wall, ignoring the peeling wallpaper Kenny and his friends had plastered up three years ago in an attempt to make the room look like… well, a _room_. "I mean… why do you keep coming back _here?_ Don't you realize that you're just making life worse for yourself?"

Kenny gave him a sharp look. "So you want me to run away? You want me to… to, I dunno, become a hobo? Have to eat out of trash cans?"

"You wouldn't have to eat out of trash cans. You're a smart kid, Kenny. You could _make_ something of yourself, make some money, I dunno, come get me and Mom out of here."

"So that's all you want, huh? You stand there and _watch_- you and Mom don't try to help-" All the tension and anger Kenny'd built up over the last two days was throbbing inside his body, threatening to come flooding out.

Kevin was silent for a minute. Finally he muttered, "I did try to help. When you… when you left the other day…" He held up his left hand.

"There's nothing wro-" Kenny began, and then stopped short. His brother's ring finger was bent slightly backward at an angle that would've been impressive if Kevin was, say, a Romanian contortionist. As he obviously wasn't, the sight of his hand made Kenny want to puke; he was suddenly reminded of Stan's face…

"How come it's not in a splint or-"

"I didn't go the hospital, you idiot!" Kevin grimaced. "Mom won't let me. She doesn't- she thinks Dad'll get in trouble…"

Kenny stood up and walked over to the mirror. It was so grimy it was almost impossible to make out his face in it, but he ignored this and began running his fingers through his hair anyway.

"What are you doing?" asked Kevin from the bed. "Your hair? Why? Just like that stupid little friend of yours, St-"

"Don't insult Stan," called Kenny. "He's a better person than you'll ever be."

"Fine!" Kevin got up and walked towards the door, holding his hand stiffly at his side so as not to jostle the finger. "Look, you go- do your makeup or whatever. I'm gonna get out of here."

_Sounds like a good idea,_ Kenny thought, and pulled his hood back over his head. He was gonna get out of here, too.

The cell phone was buried deep in his backpack, where he always left it. Kenny pressed Speed Dial #2 and waited.

"Ken-"

"Can you take me to the party?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure," said Stan. Kenny could hear a voice – Kyle's? – in the background. "Be there in five, okay?"

"'Kay," Kenny said, nodding even though he knew Stan couldn't see him.

"Hey, look…" Stan lowered his voice. "I told Cartman I'd pick him up, too."

"He has a broken leg!"

"Crutches," said Stan simply. "Anyway… don't say anything, okay?" Kenny sighed, then caught himself.

"Yeah, of course."

"Thanks." Kenny could tell Stan was smiling on the other end. "See ya in a few."

He flipped the phone shut and slipped it in the front pocket of his jacket, then gave himself one last look in the mirror to make sure none of his bruises were visible before slamming the door shut and walking down the hallway.

"Kenny!" Mrs. McCormick poked her head out of a doorway. "Where're you going?"

"Friend's house," he replied. "Be back later, okay?"

"Get back here before your father comes home," she warned, then disappeared back into the kitchen. Kenny rolled his eyes and shut the front door behind him.

It was cold outside, much colder than it'd been that morning. Kenny shivered and hugged his thin parka, hoping Stan would hurry up. But Cartman's house came first…

Kenny frowned. Why did Stan have to bring Cartman along? This would make the night a lot more complicated. Especially if Bebe was planning to play a kissing game…

But she wouldn't have guys kissing guys, right? No one in school was openly gay – she couldn't know that Stan and Cartman played for the other team, right? So he wouldn't have to worry about any drama with those two.

As for Bebe, Butters, Wendy, and Kyle…

Stan's car pulled up and Stan hopped out of the driver's seat. His hat was off for once, exposing his carefully combed black hair. "C'mon, Kenny!" he called, opening the back door.

Kenny waved to Mr. Marsh, then climbed in. Kyle tried to scoot over to make more room – the seat was barely big enough for even Ike – but Cartman's body took up a good one-and-a-half seats.

"Move your fat ass," Kyle mumbled.

Cartman frowned. "Ey!"

"It's okay," muttered Kenny, squeezing himself between Kyle and the door the best he could. "It's only a two-minute drive."

"Still," protested Kyle. "And Cartman's crutches are digging into my leg!"

"Too bad for you, Jew," Cartman laughed, but Kenny noticed he shifted the crutches just a bit.

"Anyway," said Stan, shooting Kyle a look, "you guys excited?"

"It's just a damn party," said Cartman. "What's the big deal?"

"N- nothing," stammered Stan.

"Just because _you_ don't get invited to parties-" began Kyle.

"Ey! I _do!_"

Kenny closed his eyes and leaned back against the leather seat. _The week's almost over_, he told himself. _This stupid party, and then no more stupid drama for a couple days._ Of course, there was drama at home, too…

"We're here!" called Kyle, a little too excitedly. Cartman raised an eyebrow.

"Don't wet yourself, Jew."

Kyle ignored him and climbed out after Kenny, who stared up at Bebe's house. It was the same model as most of the houses in South Park, but tonight it looked so different.

"Have fun, boys!" Randy leaned his head out the window. "Don't drink too much, 'kay? Stan, your mom'll kill me if you get dr-"

"Shut _up_, Dad," Stan moaned, clenching his nose. Randy laughed and drove away, leaving the four boys alone in front of the house.

It was time.

* * *

"Hey, guys!" Bebe grinned. "Omigod, this is so exciting!"

"Yeah," slurred Craig, appearing beside her. Kenny could tell he was already drunk, and the party'd officially started – what, five minutes ago?

Bebe led them down into the basement, where pop music was blasting from a stereo in the corner. "Drinks are over there – but I'm not sure what Craig put in them," she whispered. "So I'd be careful."

The boys nodded. Kenny shoved his hands in his jacket pocket and surveyed the room – Clyde stood by the stereo, bobbing his head and looking bored. Red and Heidi sat near him, whispering back and forth and giggling.

Bebe came back down the stairs, followed by Wendy and a very nervous-looking Butters. Wendy looked at the boys, caught Stan's eye, and blushed, stopping. Butters nearly smacked into her, his face almost as red.

"I think we're all here," Bebe grinned. "Should we get started?"

"What is this, a birthday party?" Cartman rolled his eyes. "What the hell are we supposed to do but dance?"

"You _can't_ dance, fat boy," laughed Heidi.

"Gimp," Red added, smirking. Cartman growled.

"Well, I-" Bebe looked embarrassed. "I thought we could start by playing, like, Spin the Bottle-" She was cut off by the deafening squeals of the other three girls. _Shit,_ thought Kenny.

"Omigod, yes!" cried Heidi, grabbing Red's wrist and dropping to the floor. Wendy followed suit, and Butters sat next to her.

"Uh… okay," shrugged Clyde. He pulled Craig towards the circle. "C'mon, why not?"

"No way," said Stan, shaking his head. "You are _not _making me-"

"Aw, please?" Kyle asked. "We've never played-"

"And what reason is there to start today?" Stan glanced at Cartman. "C'mon, this is stupid."

"No, it's not!" Kyle sat down. Stan sighed and joined him.

"Cartman?" asked Kenny.

"Gay," came the response.

"Cartman's a chicken!" called Craig. Next thing Kenny knew, fatass was on the floor.

Kenny sighed and sat down next to Cartman. Bebe came back from the table with an empty root beer bottle and placed it in the center of the circle.

"I'll go first," said Wendy, reaching for the bottle and spinning it. It slowed down and landed on Butters.

"Oh," said Wendy in a small voice as Butters blushed wildly. She got up and quickly pecked him on the cheek.

"Lips, lips!" called Red.

"Yeah, it's no fun on the cheek," added Clyde. Wendy grimaced and placed her glossy lips on Butters's pink ones.

_So far, so good_, thought Kenny.

It was Butters's turn now – he spun the bottle tentatively. It landed on Heidi.

The kiss was quick – Heidi rolled her eyes and took her turn.

_Kenny._ He shrunk back as their lips met – Heidi was an experienced kisser, he knew, and he was not about to let her turn this into a makeout session.

"Kenny, your turn," Bebe said. He nodded and spun.

The bottle landed on Bebe. He kissed her – she looked past him, probably at Kyle. Oh, well. He didn't like Bebe much anyway.

Bebe's spin landed on Butters.

"He's already gone," called Kyle. "He can't be kissed ag-"

But the blonde was leaning across the circle, eyes closed. She slowly kissed Butters. He shivered.

"What?" asked Bebe. Kenny clenched his eyes shut, anticipating the worst.

"That felt…" Butters touched his lips. "Never mind."

"No, what?"

"That f-felt good," he whispered, blushing again. Bebe grinned.

"Awww," Craig muttered.

Clyde rolled his eyes. "Don't say anything, okay?"

Butters grabbed the bottle.

"You're right," said Stan. "He's already gone." He took the bottle out of Butters's hands and placed it in the center again. "My turn."

Stan spun it fast – it whirled around and around the circle, making Kenny dizzy; but maybe that was just from the tension. Suddenly the bottle slowed, passing Butters, Kenny, Cartman…

It stopped on Kyle.

"Wait a sec, Stan has to spin again!" called Wendy. "He can't kiss _Kyle_, that's gay." Stan turned slightly red.

"Those are the rules of the game," shrugged Red. "You kiss who you spin."

Stan sighed and leaned in towards Kyle, who pulled away.

"Sick, dude!"

"You chicken?" shouted Craig, much too loudly.

"Yeah, chicken Jew," laughed Cartman. Kyle frowned and, with a quick glance at Bebe, he grabbed Stan's shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss.

"Ooooohhhhhh," murmured the girls in unison, giggling. Kenny watched, holding his breath, as Stan and Kyle pressed their lips together even harder. Both of them had their eyes closed.

"You can stop now," said Cartman, irritated. The boys ignored him. Stan opened his mouth.

"Oh, God, _sick!_" cried Clyde as Kyle slipped his tongue inside.

Kenny couldn't believe what was going on. Stan and Kyle were… did they _like_ this? But Stan liked Cartman! Kyle liked Bebe!

_Right?!_

Suddenly Stan's eyes popped open and he pushed Kyle away. "Dude."

The circle was silent for a minute, then Wendy stood up and marched over to Stan.

"Stan, how _could_ you?"

"What?" he cried.

"You're supposed to like _me!_" Wendy put her hands on her hips.

"I am?!"

Wendy turned on Kenny. "You said he liked me!"

"I didn't!" Kenny shouted, just as Stan yelled, "_What?_"

"You _did!_"

Kenny took a deep breath as Stan stood up next to Wendy. _Whywhywhywhy-_

"What the hell did you do, Kenny? Why did you tell Wendy I like her? You know I-" Stan caught himself.

"You _what?_" Wendy's face turned bright red. "Stan, what?"

"Nothing," he mumbled... looking at Cartman. _Moron, _Kenny thought, clenching his eyes shut. The circle was silent – everyone was staring at either Wendy or Stan, and Kenny was forgotten.

"You're not gay," Wendy whispered. It looked as if all the anger had suddenly been drained out of her body. "You can't be."

Stan sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. He glanced at Kenny – a _help me please_ look. Kenny didn't know what to do, what to say, so he kept his mouth shut. _Sorry._

"_Are you?_" Wendy's voice was still soft, but it was fierce, and Kenny could've sworn he could see the fire dancing in her eyes.

"Yeah," Stan mumbled. "I-" He stopped; Wendy had begun to cry. "Wendy!"

"I- I thought…" she sobbed, standing awkwardly in the middle of the circle as everyone, even Cartman, watched silently. "I thought you loved me."

"They weren't going out or anything," muttered Kyle bitterly. Kenny gave him an odd look, but Kyle didn't say anything else. On the other side of the circle, the girls whispered back and forth. Stan made a motion as if to hug Wendy, but bit his lip and stepped back.

"Just tell me something, Stan," Wendy choked out, her makeup smearing all over her face. "Please – if it's not me, who is it? Who's this boy you like? I- I need to know, Stan…"

Kenny felt terrible for Stan. He couldn't _not_ tell her – that would be cruel. But still… if Stan revealed his secret…

"It's Kyle, isn't it?" called out Cartman from the floor. "You weren't happy with Wendy, so you want the Jew."

"No," Stan whispered, his voice barely audible as he shot Wendy one more glance. "It's not Kyle. It's… oh God, it's you, Cartman."

The silence was deafening.

"Let's get out of here," Cartman mumbled, hoisting himself up onto his crutches and pushing past Stan. "C'mon, Wendy."

"Wai- what?" she asked, startled. "No!"

"Stan's a fag. Stay here five more minutes and you might go the same way." He grabbed Wendy's wrist, balancing the crutch under his armpit.

Kenny took one look at Stan – his expression was indescribable. It was a mixture of embarrassment and lost love and crushed hope, and suddenly Kenny snapped.

"_You're_ a fag, too!" he yelled, standing up. "_You're _fucking gay! Admit it to everyone, Cartman! Admit it!" He could feel his face growing red-hot; the fury inside of him was boiling, erupting, spilling like liquid fire all around him. He'd never felt this way before.

Cartman spun back around slowly, still balancing on the crutches, and laughed.

"You think I really liked _Kyle?_"

"Wha- yeah, that's what you _told_ me," Kenny spat back. Next to him, Kyle grabbed the earflaps of his hat.

"Kenneh, Kenneh, Kenneh." Cartman shook his head. "You're stupider than I thought." Kenny stared back at him. "And you, Wendy – Stan always hated you. You need someone whose heart doesn't belong to his faggy best friend." He tugged on her wrist; dazed, Wendy followed him towards the stairs. "Screw you guys, I'm going home."

"Wait, _what?!_" Butters said, shaking his head. "What's going on?"

"Well, it looks like Stan's gay and Cartman likes Wendy," Red offered. Butters stood up.

"No! By gosh, y-you can't go with him, Wendy!" He marched towards the pair and grabbed Wendy's arm. Cartman pushed him away and he fell to the floor.

"Butters!" gasped Bebe, rushing over to him. "Are you okay?" She looked up at Cartman. "Get _out,_" she spat. "Leave."

"Fahn," he shrugged. "You're still coming with me, ho." Wendy made a little noise of protest, but weakly followed the fatass up the stairs and out the door.

"What the fuck is going on here?" asked Clyde, his arm still around the drunk Craig.

"I don't know," said Kyle, staring at Stan. "I don't know." And then, in what was probably the _most_ surprising thing Kenny'd seen all night, Kyle got up and kissed Stan again.

"Shit, dude," Craig slurred.

"This is probably the stupidest thing I've ever done," Kyle whispered, looking at Bebe and then at Kenny. "But I think it's the smartest, too." He pressed his lips to Stan's another time, and they swayed, two beings as one, a connection that could exist only between Super Best Friends.

Kenny stared at Stan and Kyle. _Am I dreaming?_ He probably was – there was no way this was happening. There was no way Bebe was softly petting Butters's hair off in the corner – there was no way Stan's arms could be wrapped around Kyle's waist, locked in position.

There was no possible way.

Images of love, hate, confessions, _secrets_ swirled before him, making him dizzy. Without saying a word, Kenny stumbled up the stairs, anxious for some fresh air. Upstairs, he still couldn't clear his head, and so Kenny headed for the door. The cold would help, right?

Behind him, he could hear footsteps, muffled as if he were still in that dream. He caught a glimpse of sunshine yellow, a flash of bright green, and he barely heard Kyle's voice: "Dude, what're you doing?"

He didn't know. Instead of stopping and sitting on the steps, instead of trying to sort out the chaos in his head, Kenny kept walking. He felt the wind through his jacket, stinging his cuts and bruises. The pain was numbing, blocking out the confusion, blocking out the sights and sounds.

It blocked out the truck, too.

The pain shot through his body, white-hot like nothing he'd ever felt before, and for a second Kenny thought his dad was standing right next to him. He cowered, expecting another blow, but all he got was darkness.

Suddenly, Kenny thought, the secrets didn't matter quite so much.


	13. Epilogue

A/N: Thanks to **Otempora42, nina-neko, StansGirl512, I so call kyle, lupinsmoon12391, kyleisgod, Luna C. Starque, KnuxZ, Forts, Tiggyxxx, JVM-sp150, **and **Daire** for reviewing the last chapter. Hope this clears up any confusion. :)

More rambling at the end.

disclaimer: We know, we know, South Park belongs to Matt&Trey.

* * *

Epilogue

You know, people are so afraid of dying, so adamant in their desire to remain alive here on Earth, that they never really stop to think of the good parts about being dead. There aren't many, obviously, but there's this one cool thing I always look forward to when I come here.

When you're alive, there's so much to do and so much to see and it's all so damn _confusing_, you know? But when you're dead… it's like someone's taken this giant eraser and cleared everything in your head, and you can finally _see_. It's this seeing part that I like so much. I can tell what people are thinking – no, not read their minds, but I can see the reasons they, well, do stuff.

Like when I glanced over at South Park the other day. It was a couple of days after Bebe's party, and the town had calmed down a bit. For one, no one had really mourned my death except for my friends, and they were pretty much over it. That's the sucky part of dying so often; no one ever cares, and you never know when it could be your last time.

Anyway, it was a Monday morning, snowy and freezing as usual, and my friends were standing at the bus stop. Well, Stan and Kyle were. Cartman was making his way up the bank of snow, struggling with his crutches and his backpack.

"Fags," he murmured as a greeting. I think it's funny, you know, that someone so against gays would pretend to be one, but whatever.

"Fatass," Kyle shot back. "Go annoy the hell out of someone else, will you?"

Cartman laughed. "But it's _fun_ to bug you. Jew," he added. "Besides, you _are_ fags, so there."

"I am," said Stan. "Don't call Kyle… that." And this surprised me. I mean, obviously I hadn't seen them since the party, but last I checked Kyle was gay, right?

"Why not?"

"Listen, Cartman…" said Kyle slowly. "I'm telling you this so you'll shut up, okay? Me and Stan don't… like each other like that."

"Sure you don't, Jew." Cartman rolled his eyes.

"No, really. We've talked about it and-" Kyle looked at Stan, who was blushing. "And… look. I was really, really confused that night, okay? I mean, first I find out that Stan likes _you_, and then I find out that _you_ told Kenny you liked _me_. What was that all about, anyway?" Cartman didn't say anything, so Kyle went on. "And- and Bebe goes off to comfort Butters. So there I am, thrown into this chaos, and-" He sighed. "I'm not gay, okay? I just… Stan was there, and he was willing to kiss me, and I had all this, like, emotion I needed to get out. I don't _like_ him like that."

Cartman stared at the two of them for a second and then burst out laughing; this would've been my cue to hit him if I was still alive.

"What?" said Stan, frowning.

"Re-_ject-_ed," sang Cartman. "_Stan got rejected, Stan got rejected_. Oh my God- twice in a row, huh? Wow, that _sucks!_"

Stan looked as if he was about to cry. "I didn't get _rejected,_ Cartman. I don't like Ky-"

"Yes you do!" Cartman was dancing now. "You do, Stan, admit it."

"I think you do," said Kyle softly, "but it doesn't really matter."

"Damn it, I don't _know!_"

"Listen," said Kyle. "Cartman. Stan and I decided to forget about this whole thing. You should, too, or someone's going to get hurt."

"So?"

"_So?!_ You never think of anybody but yourself, you fat fuck!" Kyle's face turned red. "Look at- look at Kenny! He must've been overwhelmed enough, what with Stan and me freaking out over who we liked." _And Bebe, and Butters, and Wendy…_ "Plus there was the whole issue with his dad - which, of course, _you_ didn't bother to care about, you probably don't even care that he's in jail – and then you have to go make things a hell of a lot more confusing by pretending to like _me!_"

"Kahl, Kahl," laughed Cartman in that annoying accent of his. "You can't take a joke, can you?"

"A _joke?!_"

"Seriouslah," said Cartman. "Weak. No one has a freakin' sense of humor around here."

No, no one has a sense of humor as twisted as Cartman's.

"So you lied about liking Kyle as a joke?" Stan asked. "I don't think so. I think you wanted to throw us off track so you could get to Wendy."

"What- no!" But it was obvious that he had.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," said Kyle. "Dumbass."

"I'm smarter than _you_, Kyle! Unlike you, _I_ have a girlfriend!" Stan and Kyle looked at each other, and I suddenly found myself missing South Park like crazy - I should've been included in that look, too…

"You- Wendy- " Stan stammered. Cartman grinned.

"How the hell did you get her to agree to _that?_" asked Kyle. "You didn't drug her, did you?"

"Why would I do that?" Cartman said in what was supposed to be his innocent voice, I guess. "No, Kahl, _she_ asked _me_ to go out with her." He smiled even wider; he really did like Wendy, I could tell, and for a minute I felt really happy for him. Yeah, Cartman's a complete bastard, but he's gone through some pretty bad shit in his life, just like the rest of us.

Kyle, for once, didn't look like he had anything to say. Stan just shook his head and sighed. Poor dude, you know? Technically, I was in the middle of this whole mess, but Stan was roped up in it too, and, even though it might seem like I got the bad end of the deal, he's the one that has to deal with all the leftover shit.

The bus came and they got on silently, and then I couldn't hear any more. I could see through the windows, though – Stan and Kyle sat together, leaning slightly away from each other. Cartman slid in next to Wendy, who smiled at him and turned back around to talk to Bebe, who was sharing her seat with Butters. He looked nervous – was it his hand, which was wrapped around Bebe's? Or was it Wendy, who was laughing not two feet away from him? I couldn't tell, and, to tell you the truth, I don't really care.

Stan stared through the glass and for a second I thought he could see me (it always happens in the movies, you know?) but he blinked and looked away. Next to him, Kyle tugged on his hat. They were the only ones in the bus whose mouths weren't moving, and it made me really sad.

There wasn't much more else to see, just the bus driving away, and I didn't really feel like hanging around South Park anyway, so I left. I didn't fly or anything, I just – poof! – left.

It's been a couple of days since then, and, as I obviously haven't come back to life yet, I think I'm here for good. It _could_ be a fluke, like in fourth grade, but I doubt it. And anyway, even if it is, I don't even know if I'd want to go back. It's so confusing over there, and it's easy to get hurt.

Besides, I've heard enough secrets to last a lifetime.

* * *

A/N2: Ah, I'm done. It feels so weird, never working on this little story again. But I suppose that's gotta happen at some point, right?

Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed or favorited this story - it means a lot, it really does. Special thanks to **Otempora42, Daire, kyleisgod, Forts, **and **lupinsmoon12391** for the feedback and support. I mean, when I started, this was a silly little idea - a couple of kids with crushes - and it wasn't supposed to be serious at all. Your constructive criticism and enthusiasm helped shape this story from 300-word "chapters" into something with plot and substance, and I'm grateful for all the help. :D

And now I'm off to check the "complete" box under Status.

_-Loca Bambina_


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